#Anyways I’ll continue to develop it all. Get better at art so I can draw environments and scene mock-ups

[raidante]

I’m embarrassed by how invested I am in my own work… bruh

[redux-iterum]

Do you have any advice to help or prevent writer's block? I have a terrible habit of starting but never completing what I write. Also really excited for the Charred Legacy!

Hello and thank you! My advice splits into two categories of writer's block, which I'll call here Classic Block and Progression Block. Classic Block refers to the block people usually mean, especially when drawing: that you can barely write three sentences before erasing it all because it's awful and you hate it, leading you to sit around stewing in frustration that your skill level is so low. Progression Block, meanwhile, is the block where the actual work of writing something to completion is a Herculean task, even if you don't hate your writing style. The distinction DOES matter, as you’ll see.

To start off, Classic Block sources from your standards of writing not matching what you perceive to be your level of ability. Maybe you used to like how you write, but now all you see is the flaws. Your skills have leveled out or lowered instead of steadily increasing in quality – at least, that’s how it feels. This leads to you not writing at all, or only getting a bit done and then abandoning it because it sucks and what’s even the point and you’ll never make anything good anyway and so on. It’s the same thing as artist’s block, just with typing.

This brand of block has similar advice in every medium of art that it appears in, which is “study and practice”. The only way to get better is to examine where your faults are at and work to fix them. If you find how you write dialog unnatural, for example, you take a look at books or scripts you enjoy the dialog of and pay close attention to how the characters talk, or you find as many advice posts on the web as possible about how to create natural-sounding conversations, or even just listen in to people chatting in the real world. Like an artist studies anatomy and feels more confident about their improving work, a writer studies all the advice they can get and applies it to their story, and continues writing for practice until they get somewhere they’re okay with. It may not be as easy as artist’s block to conquer, depending on who you are, but it is doable.

Progression Block is a different beast, and I’ve certainly felt it before on my comics and writing. This is when you’re at the beginning or starting the middle of your project and you find yourself unable to continue on to the end. Maybe you’ve lost the adrenaline that the start gave you; maybe the prospect of a long-term story is too daunting; maybe you ran out of ideas or passion; maybe you don’t like the start now and you want to rewrite it before you continue; maybe (and this is the most common one) you’ve found yourself at a part of the story you’re not that excited about and it’s difficult to get through it. Whatever the case is, you’re good at starting ideas, just not finishing them. This is extremely common, so don’t feel bad about it. I can’t count how many webcomics or fics I’ve seen left to rot after about a month of work on them. I’ve done it myself, multiple times! We’re all at risk of it.

The biggest thing to address here is that, sadly, writing is not always going to be exciting. That’s just a fact. You are not going to be riding a high the entire process. You WILL get to something that feels more like homework than fun. This is a guarantee for every single project that goes on longer than a couple pages, and sometimes even the short stuff isn’t safe. This is not a horrible thing, it’s just something you need to develop methods to overcome. Discipline is important if you want to take writing seriously. There are ways to get through this: dinner-before-desert (the promise of “I have to write this dull chapter and I’ll get to write the scene I’m really excited about”), setting small goals to get the unfun part done a bit at a time (writing 200 words a day, or a couple paragraphs, etc), finding things to appreciate (like that joke you threw in or how pretty this scenery is), and having something occupying the senses to keep flow going (listening to music, mainly) are all tools I use myself to get past potentially weeks of writing that I’m not excited about. You do need to be a little stern with yourself, but the reward of getting to the thing you’ve been dreaming of since the start is completely worth it, I can promise that. You just gotta eat your dinner first, and then we’ll get you some ice cream. One carrot at a time. You can do this.

Something that can get to people is the prospect of being “stuck” with something for months or potentially years. The size of a project can be intimidating, I understand that. You’re doing this particular thing for god knows how long, and you have to do it on a regular basis if you ever want to get anywhere with it? That’s a little scary! I get it! But that does not mean you won’t have fun, or won’t ever be finished. It took me six years to complete a comic you can read through in one day, I’ve started one I know will take me at least ten, and Iterum itself is going to be a long fucking ride I don’t dare to guess the length of. I have had the occasional sensation of leaning on a table, bracing myself on my arms, staring down at a drink and thinking “Jesus Chirst” about how long all this shit will take me.

With that issue, I’ve personally found that taking joy in the process is the best solution. “Well, I do love writing these particular characters, I’m excited to see how they’ll grow over time!” “Planning chapters is a very chill way to spend my evenings while still giving me something to think about.” “It’s so exciting to have all these secret plot developments no one but me knows yet!” And so on. Like in life, you should appreciate the Now, not constantly be fretting about Later or Before. Learn to love typing out dialog and prose! It’s doable.

Of course, you should have a few thoughts about the future. That’s where planning comes in. Some people can make up shit on the fly and write a complete, excellent novel. I am not one of those people, and not many are. Some architecture is generally necessary. When I don’t have a set general path ahead of time for me to take as I write, I give up on things because I don’t know where to go next. Create your path, however vague or exact it needs to be! My advice on planning is to start with only the most major of story beats, arrange them in the order you want or need them to happen, and add smaller connecting lines to them, then connecting even smaller lines to those lines, slowly getting more and more specific and detailed as you zoom in on the story beat-by-beat.

Another thing that might help you keep at it is finding an audience – at least, it worked for me. When I started writing for real, I was doing choose-your-own-adventure threads in forums, and then a choose-your-own-adventure webcomic, where people got to send in commands to move the story forward. I could not get anything completed on my own to save my life, but having people participating and actively waiting for me to continue the story helped me develop the discipline and work ethic required to do the projects I’m doing now (and taught me how to improvise extremely well, as a side benefit). Your audience could be one person, or ten, or a hundred. Even if they don’t comment or regularly engage with the story, just knowing that someone is there waiting to see what happens next can be a good motivator.

One final thing: you may fall into the trap many do of looking at the small bit of stuff you’ve completed, not liking it, and wanting to go back and rewrite it, because this time you’ve got the skills to do it right.

DO NOT FUCKING DO THAT.

All that’s going to do is trap you in an endless cycle of “improving” what’s already there at best, and wear you out from going over the same old ground over and over and drain your love for the story at worst. You will not be fixing anything. Put it out and move on. Don’t keep trying to rescrub the same plate until you put a hole through it. You’re going to look back and think it’s shit. That’s normal. Doesn’t mean it’s true, or that you should waste time “fixing” it. Learn to go “well, I don’t like it, but I gotta keep going”. Get it done. It will never be perfect, and the sooner you understand that, the sooner you can get this project done.

That’s about all the advice I can think of for now. I hope this prattling helped you, at least a little bit!

[daydreamerfox]

🦊ABOUT ME!

It’s been a while that I’m here, but I feel like I’ve never really tried to talk about myself, not even a little bit, so here’s my attept to do that:

Hi! I’m Pattie, I’m 26 years old (My bday is September 17th, in case any of you wanna do something, just saying 👀), I’m a freelance artist and a streamer from Brazil! I started drawing as soon as I could hold a pencil in my hand! I’ve always enjoyed to be able to put all my ideas on a piece of paper, create my own character and stories and draw my favorite characters from series, books, movies, etc.

I started my major in game development to learn more about game design and hopefully work making art for games (and why not the actual games). In 2019 I began thinking about taking more seriously the 'posting my art online' thing, be known and actually get some money working with it. Many things happened that delayed this journey, but here I am, still trying to make things work, not giving up and documenting my discoveries about what kind of artist I wanna be, sharing my growth as a person and as a professional too with you guys!

In 2021 I decided to start streaming so I could share my work, but also to interact with the people who followed me and ended up falling in love with it! At first I only did it in portuguese, but eventually I felt more comfortable to keep switching languages! Even if sometimes I can’t really keep up with my streaming schedule for a few different reasons I sure still love doing it, they’re always so much fun!

I’ve been studying a lot about how I can have a better presence online and how I can grow as an artist,practice is a little harder than theory, but we’ll get there, but this is stil a work in progress that I’ll for sure keep updating you guys.

Right now I’ve been trying to work on making videos, using my streams as a base for them (even though I’m not the best video editor out there and sometimes get stuck at some points and don’t know how to continue the project… oops) and, more importantly, I wanna let you guys meet my characters! I hope you have fun reading about their stories as much as I have as I have fun writing and creating about them!

But anyway, enough about me, I wanna know who are you guys, what can you guys share about yourselves with me? You guys can either reblog this or send me asks, whaterver you prefer I'll be happy to reply to it!

In case you wanna check my work on other social media here are the links:

Twitter (X... idk anymore) Instagram Twitch Youtube

[fallingfromdepression]

this should technically go on my other blog where i discuss/rant abt fandom/media (not my main lol) but i think the vibe matches this personal blog more. anyway as i wrote a few weeks ago, i am starting a new job very soon. this week was the last week of “freedom” and i’ve been wanting to draw almost the entire week but i haven’t. it’s a combo of lack of motivation, lack of confidence in my art prompted by seeing how much better other artists online are, and general malaise.

i’m aware i have a combo of positive and negative feelings abt starting this new job, and recently i’ve been focusing more on the negative aspects. my spiral thus leads to me not really wanting to do anything. combine this w my recent thoughts (again) that me drawing is useless, that my art isn’t good at all and won’t really improve until i do meaningful studies that i don’t really feel like doing. i don’t get why i feel like that about art since i don’t have a job in art nor plan to have one, but i think it’s an inevitable/standard side effect of fandom since i p much have only been drawing fanart for the past few years.

i honestly am hoping shifting my daily hours to focusing on work will improve the neuroses i’ve developed around fandom (particularly shipping but also just in general tbh). i know the obvious solution is to log off or at least stop checking on fandom accounts but since i haven’t had much to do w my time for the past year or so (unemployment tbf) i’ve been hiding in fandom spaces to pass the time. sure in hindsight it’s prob just done nothing past rot my brain but yeah. hopefully w starting work i’ll shift away from fandom and prioritizing it less per se (by this i mean feeling like i SHOULD be drawing fanart, i should be contributing to specific fandoms when i have the free time). i’ve been wanting to pick up another hobby but learning something new feels like it req too much energy and drawing is something that takes “less energy”... ugh but i’ll have to prob pick up a new hobby fr so i can have “normal” things to talk abt w my coworkers (btw the hobbies i’ve been thinking about are crocheting, embroidery, knitting so like they’re still creative things. i mean most hobbies are creative things tho).

my relationship w art/my perception of my art has really deteriorated since... tbh since i joined twitter in late 2019. i mean i’m happy to blame twitter as the main issue but i feel like around that time was when i started questioning what i wanted to do w my art and whether it was worth it to keep investing time in it when i don’t plan to make money from it (lol). i think the 1st reason is valid but the 2nd reason is just... such a capitalist way of thinking. now that i’m thinking on it again, the main reason why i feel like this is bc i do almost no original art... i’ve been working on fanart only since basically 2020 and since i’m not like spending 24/7 drawing or improving my art, my art hasn’t really improved in the past 2 years past me learning how to use my digital art program better. i don’t think fanwork is USELESS, but i feel like it doesn’t match up to original works (original fictional and/or personal stuff).

the main reason i started questioning what i wanted to do w my art was after seeing an artist on IG discuss their desire to continue representing their ethnicity’s culture through their art; me, i was doing no such thing. i was (am still lol) just drawing BL and not really in a meaningful way. the thing is, there ARE parts of my lived experience that i would love to put into art form but still cannot. and i can’t really force it when i’m not ready, but seeing other ppl do it makes me feel like i need to. even though if i try to do it now, i won’t be satisfied w it. but still this concern has stuck w me the past few years and is why i question my continuation in fandom. i wouldn’t consider myself “active” in fandom as i have little to no interest in interacting w other fans online, nor do i post like every day/week -- so it’s not a matter of maintaining clout or friendships. i just question it bc looking at the big picture -- what can a piece of fanart do? it’s not really something i can put in portfolios (i mean you can but at my age it’s kinda lol i feel even if i didn’t go to art school) nor show to irl ppl without needing to unfriend them (i don’t create problematic or questionable works, but it’s just embarrassing irl to admit i’m still in fandom at this age you know). i don’t have the kind of awe-inspiring style that will stick in ppl’s minds and/or make them rethink aspects of the story (also the things i create fanart for... no offense but they’re not really that deep. ppl making them deep are kinda reaching/projecting imo. nothing wrong w that but also be real, keep a clear eye abt the og work). i’m not saying all original work does that, but talking about my lived experience(s) feels more meaningful than drawing fictional characters or shipping. but as i said: i still feel unable to adequately represent my personal experiences. i’ve tried before but i’m not satisfied w what i’ve written or drawn. and so i stick w fandom where i barely exercise much less flex my creative muscles, but at least i’m still drawing.

anyway i quit IG back in 2021 and honestly hope to do the same w twitter. sadly i can’t log off bc i have accounts blocked that i don’t want to see as i am not really mentally moved on yet; but i really do need to reduce the amount of time spent on that site. tumblr is alright for now, but it’s definitely still a time waster and i still do see art that makes me feel bad by comparing myself to them.

but for now i hope i can just take a break from fandom and being online all the time. i just want to like my art again

[robininthelabyrinth]

NMJ is the only one that knows bc he’s the only one that NHS truly trusts, he’s the only one who knows why NHS focuses so much in painting and art, NHS doesn’t know why or how but with a little bit of spiritual energy he’s able to bring what he paints in paper to the real world and with that the Nie sect has the beasts of legends under their command

on ao3

“How about you draw a flower?” Nie Mingjue said without much conviction. It was hard to have conviction when you knew it was pointless.

“No!” Nie Huaisang shouted, unsurprisingly, because toddlers always shouted. They seemed to have a great deal of feelings and sound for such small frames. “Taotie!”

Nie Mingjue grimaced. “No, no, not Taotie,” he said quickly. Never Taotie, not again. “How about the Baihu? Nice fuzzy tiger?”

“No!”

“Fenghuang? You like birds.”

Nie Huaisang considered it. “I like birds,” he agreed.

Nie Mingjue heaved a sigh of relief. “Me, too,” he said enthusiastically. “I love birds.”

He had never had especially strong feelings about birds, but he was willing to develop some.

“Okay,” Nie Huaisang said, and patted his thigh comfortingly. “I’ll draw you a bird, da-ge.”

“…thanks,” Nie Mingjue said.

When Nie Huaisang was done, he proudly presented Nie Mingjue with the results of his work.

Nie Mingjue put the baby phoenix in the new aviary he’d secretly had constructed behind his father’s back, thinking to himself that the high-grade construction materials he’d insisted on were totally worth losing his allowance for the next year.

The phoenix chick - it looked like a plucked chicken with maybe three feathers total - weakly coughed smoke.

Because of course it did.

Sometimes Nie Mingjue wished that he could just tell someone about Nie Huaisang’s unusual gift – it was a pretty big burden to bear, and he really wasn’t sure he was old enough for this type of responsibility – but no one else deserved to know. If they didn’t have the good taste to like Nie Huaisang when he was no one and nobody, pointless and useless, they didn’t deserve the benefits of knowing him now that he could do stuff.

Even if it was weird stuff. 

Stuff like his ability to summoning the things he drew into existence. 

Even things that might not really exist.

Besides, the thought of Nie Huaisang getting wrapped up into war and politics when he was still so young –

No, better to just store away what he made and hope he grew out of it.

And no more Taoties.

-

“Lan Zhan said his uncle shows people his artwork,” Nie Huaisang said, sitting on Nie Mingjue’s table in the family study. “Why don’t you ever show my artwork?”

“You do art?” their father asked absently, most of his attention on the report he was reading.

“Huaisang does great calligraphy,” Nie Mingjue interjected very quickly. “You’ve seen it – it’s beautiful. And his poems are very well crafted, too.”

“But Lan Zhan said –”

Nie Mingjue mentally resigned himself to not being friends with Lan Xichen any longer, no matter how well they’d gotten along, on the basis that the other boy would probably take it personally when Nie Mingjue murdered his brother.

“He also said stuff about rules,” he said. “Hundreds and hundreds of rules. Do you want to listen to all of those, too?”

“No,” Nie Huaisang said sulkily, five years old and bitter with it. “But…”

“How about we show Lan Wangji your aviary?” Nie Mingjue coaxed. “Go ask him if he’d like to see it. I bet he’s never seen anything like that – and you can ask him what type of animal he likes best, too!”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes went wide at the thought and he dashed off.

“You spoil him far too much,” their father commented. “An aviary – you talk about it more than he does, and you’re always getting birds to fill it up for him, too. Why are you so devoted to him learning to like birds?”

“Better than him liking fierce beasts,” Nie Mingjue said, omitting to mention exactly where he obtained the birds that filled the aviary. “Or corpses.”

“If he liked fierce beasts, perhaps he’d be more martially inclined.”

No, we would be, Nie Mingjue thought. He’d gotten a lot of spare practice with Baxia trying to fight corpses that had no business being there during the period in which Nie Huaisang had gotten temporarily interested in the things in his father’s stories – and that was before Nie Huaisang had learned about yao.

“I don’t want him growing up morbid, that’s all,” he said.

“You’re his brother, not his nursemaid,” their father said, a little exasperated. “Nor are you his mother. Why are you fussing over him so?”

Nie Mingjue huffed and shook his head. “How goes recruitment for the border?” he asked instead, and listened to his father tell him about how people barely a year or two older than him were being sent to risk death in the name of sect honor.

Not Nie Huaisang, he promised himself. Not yet.

He’d tell his father when Nie Huaisang was old enough to handle the consequences.

-

“Huaisang, didi,” Nie Mingjue said, and tried to smile, even though it pained him. “Can you do me a favor? A really, really big favor?”

Nie Huaisang sniffed, clutching at his arms and shaking. “What, da-ge?”

“You remember Jiwei? A-die’s saber? Can you draw that for me, please?”

It only made it worse.

-

“Da-ge?”

“Yes, Huaisang?” Nie Mingjue asked, scowling at the map. It didn’t get any better the longer he looked at it, but maybe if he kept glaring he could cow it into submission.

“Don’t you want me to help?”

Nie Mingjue looked up at where Nie Huaisang was wringing his hands by the door. “Help? With what?”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes at him, like it was Nie Mingjue being dense instead of him having started a conversation in the middle. “Uh, with border defense?”

“Why would I ask you to help with that?” Nie Mingjue asked blankly, then realized how his words could be misconstrued. “Not that I wouldn’t ask you to help, of course, but you’ve never really liked battlefield strategy, and anyway you are only twelve –”

“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang whined. “I meant drawing!”

“…as in maps?”

Nie Huaisang’s glare could light fires.

Nie Mingjue coughed and put aside his work to focus on his brother. “Huaisang, why do you think I would use your drawings in planning out a possible battle?”

“Because they’re useful?” Nie Huaisang said, crossing his arms. “I can make things appear, da-ge, just by drawing them. Not sure if you’ve noticed, but that’s not something that normal people can do.”

“I know,” Nie Mingjue said. “It’s not. But just because it’s not normal doesn’t mean it’s not a wonderful ability, Huaisang.”

Nie Huaisang looked a little bit appeased.

“But just because it’s wonderful doesn’t mean I’m going to abuse your ability,” Nie Mingjue continued. “You should be playing, not working, and if anyone tells you otherwise, you tell me and I’ll straighten them out.”

Nie Huaisang came up and hugged him. “So it’s not that you’re not ashamed of me being weird and useless?”

“I think we’ve already established that an ability like yours is far from useless. And I don’t care how weird you are, principles are principles: you’re too young to be used for battle. Sorry, Huaisang; my hands are tied.”

Nie Huaisang laughed at him and left, looking much happier.

-

“So what would you like?” Nie Huaisang asked, eyes sparkling. “Me and my brush are at the ready, here to help!”

Nie Mingjue rubbed his forehead. “If you’re sure…”

“Da-ge! I’m seventeen – you were already sect leader for two years by my age. And it’s not like I’m going out there on the front lines or anything; I’m just going to draw some stuff for you.”

“You say ‘just’,” he grumbled. “It does drain your qi, you know. That’s why you took such a long time to form a golden core…”

“Yes, but I did get there eventually, didn’t I? And anyway, it’s fine, I’ll do it instead of my usual landscapes. What would you like? A dragon to devour our enemies? The white tiger, nipping at their heels? A taotie –”

“No Taotie.”

“You’re so weird about that,” Nie Huaisang complained, rolling his eyes again. “Fine. Then what?”

“Sabers,” Nie Mingjue said, giving in. “Standard steel, not spiritual. Horses, feed, saddles. Say, how are you at drawing arrows?”

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said. “I can draw you the beasts of legend, and you want me to draw you arrows?”

“Yes. As many as you can bring yourself to create, really; everyone’s always short on arrows. More rice would be good, too –”

“This wasn’t exactly what I was expecting when I volunteered to help,” Nie Huaisang grumbled.

“Are you going to do it for me or not?” Nie Mingjue asked, unimpressed. “You asked me to use you, not to give you an art project.”

His brother heaved a sigh. “Yes, yes, I will. Can you explain to me why this is your choice, at least?”

Nie Mingjue ruffled his brother’s hair. “Huaisang, when you draw something, it comes to life. Fully to life, as a separate and independent creature of its own – if you draw a dragon, who’s to say that the dragon will choose to fight the Wen sect, instead of turning on us? It wouldn’t be much help if we had to run out, sabers drawn, to deal with whatever it was, only to be exhausted before the Wen sect even arrived.”

“…oh.”

“When we’ve made some progress in the field, I promise to let you help build fortifications,” Nie Mingjue said. “You can start thinking of really nasty traps –”

“Da-ge?”

“Yes?”

“…is that why you hate the idea of me drawing Taotie so much?”

Nie Mingjue coughed.

“Da-ge!”

“Don’t worry about it. It was always really good saber practice…”

-

“And if anyone tries anything against you at the camp, you draw something really mean, okay?” Nie Mingjue said, pressing paper and a brush into his brother’s hand in addition to the ones he’d hidden away in his luggage - there was a chance that might be confiscated upon his arrival. “I don’t care what it is.”

“I know, I know –”

“Promise me!”

“I will!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed. “I promise already!”

“Not just if they’re aggressive. Even if things just look suspicious –”

“Suspicious? Like what?”

“If they take you somewhere secluded,” Nie Mingjue said, face drawn with worry. “Somewhere where it’d take us a long time to find your bodies. I don’t care if you put other people in danger from your creation, okay? Don’t make me have to find your corpse.”

Nie Huaisang was silent for a moment. “I understand,” he finally said. “I promise.”

-

“I’m never drawing anything legendary ever again,” Nie Huaisang sniffed into Nie Mingjue’s collar. “That Xuanwu was awful. It tried to eat all of us!”

-

“Do you want me to help with the logistics, Sect Leader Nie?” Meng Yao asked.

“You already help with the logistics,” Nie Mingjue said, not really paying attention. If it was serious, Meng Yao would bring it to his attention – he was a truly remarkable aide-de-camp. “You already help with everything.”

“I appreciate Sect Leader Nie’s confidence in me,” Meng Yao said, smiling a little. “But no, I meant – with the imports.”

“Imports?”

“Every week we receive new shipments of goods – food, weapons, defenses – from Qinghe, and we don’t send any money back. Surely such expenditures are putting a strain on the Nie treasury..?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Nie Mingjue said. “Huaisang is handling it. It’s good for him to have responsibility.”

Meng Yao looked a little skeptical, but in his defense, he’d met Nie Huaisang.

“Really,” Nie Mingjue assured him. “He’s not going to hurt our budget – it’ll be fine. They’ve come steadily every week so far, haven’t they?”

“If Sect Leader Nie is content, then so am I,” Meng Yao said, but he was pouting a little, perhaps at the perceived lack of trust. He did so love to be helpful.

“You know I trust you with my life,” Nie Mingjue told him. “But this is something that Huaisang is, for once, best placed to handle. Don’t worry about it.”

It wasn’t really his secret to share, after all. Maybe when the war was done.

-

Nie Mingjue was on his back in the throne room of the Fire Palace, staring up at the man who murdered his father and who was about to murder him, too, when he heard the sound.

A high-pitched squeal, unlike anything else he’d ever heard – a little like a pig, a little like a wolf, a little like the long slow grate of metal against metal. It burned on the ear, a vile sound on the verge of being physically painful.

“What is that?” Wen Ruohan asked, frowning. He was standing above Nie Mingjue, his foot crushing down on his chest; Baxia was out of reach, knocked away, but at least no longer in the traitor Meng Yao’s hands. “Meng Yao…?”

“I - I’m not sure, Sect Leader Wen,” Meng Yao said, looking equally confused.

Nie Mingjue laughed.

They both looked at him.

He grinned up at them, blood in his teeth.

“What?” he said. “Never heard a Taotie before?”

[onebizarrekai]

v3′s art is comically terrible for a professionally distributed game in a series: a compilation

in this not-essay I will list all of the mistakes and problems I have spotted in v3′s art. don’t worry, it’s entirely for fun and I’m doing this on a whim, so please feel free to not take this seriously but also it’s hilarious and embarrassing how ridiculous this is like what happened did they speedrun the whole production or what

see, there are some things you can take as meta like “they made it bad on purpose to allude to the downfall of tv shows that have been on air for much too long” but I have a very strong feeling this is not the case due to the nature of some of these errors

disclaimer, the more I study this art, the more I fear that the artists were underpaid and underslept, so if this is in fact the case, I am so sorry to all of them but also I’m going to make fun of the art anyway

anyway let’s get started!

if you study this image for longer than 5 seconds, you will see that kaede is the only one fully shaded and keebo is literally just his normal sprite pasted into the image. every other character is just an ordinary ref, hence most of them facing the exact same direction with neutral expressions on their faces. it looks like a bad edit, and is probably one of the worst pieces of art in the game. it kind of gets better from here on, but my roasting will not.

with that out of the way, here’s the problem that officially bothers me the most and clarifies my viewpoint of “this is not meta and an actual lack of company communication”

this freaking cg, which seems normal at a glance, but some wiseass was like “oh, kaede is a girl, so obviously she’s going to be shorter than the Male Protagonist™” ah, that’s funny. because if you look at the character bios, kaede is, in fact, one inch taller than shuichi and not like 6 inches shorter as she is shown here.

also shuichi’s shoulder is disproportionate and horrendous and he looks vaguely like a jojo character, but I wasn’t even thinking about that until right now.

thanks guys, 50% of the fandom who has never bothered to check these bios thinks that kaede is like 5′3 (did the developers really put so little thought into her to the point where drawing her correctly in the game didn’t even matter??)

also I would like to point out that, even though this isn’t related to the art itself, yes, a character kaede’s size being only 117 lbs is unfeasible, but this applies to literally every character in danganronpa ever and it’s not new news that it’s unrealistic

update: someone in the tags informed me that in versions of the game that use centimeters, like the japanese version, kaede is actually shorter than shuichi, which just adds another thing to the list of weird decisions the localization team made for no reason. that said, after confirming this, kaede is 167 cm in the original, while shuichi is 171 cm, which are approximately 5′6 and 5′7 respectively, but one inch is still nowhere near as drastic as it is depicted above. (in spite of this, I would rather depict kaede as slightly taller, so I’m probably going to keep doing that.)

the journey continues!

bro if you want kaede to have shoulder length hair then stick to it to begin with

you can pretend this is at an angle all you want but they definitely committed the shorter kaede sin a second time

wait a goddamn second.

DO YOU SEE THIS

no………… it wasn’t kaede who shrank. it was shuichi who got taller

speaking of which, can we talk about how shady the perspective is in this elevator pic? look at shuichi and kokichi in comparison to kaede. kokichi, who is canonically 7 inches (edit: or 5, if you’re loyal to the original) shorter than kaede, looks taller than kaede. he’s growing too. what steroids are these gays taking

running into the room, electric boogaloo: I don’t think tsumugi is supposed to be the same height as kokichi

gonta… gonta you’re lookin a bit like a jojo character there

I love how kaito’s head looks kind of like it was pasted onto his body. why is he the same size as shuichi? shouldn’t he be high school bully size or something? his torso is teensy

ah yes, white angie.

I love this cg but why is shuichi’s right hand so much bigger than his left hand

I also love how this cg looks like they literally took pictures of trees and pasted them into the background, especially on the left. the shadows are so weird, especially closer to the ceiling, it’s difficult for me to believe they didn’t do exactly that.

return of Enlarged shuichi

puberty update: kokichi is now taller than shuichi in spite of shuichi never missing leg day. what crimes will he commit

I have to mention it, guys. this has to be one of the worst danganronpa cgs. kokichi’s facial proportions look atrocious. look at the way his face sticks out like his jaw is in the wrong place. his scarf is a pasted texture. that’s it. this moment was so iconic but the cg just looks so… so… off. like something is terribly wrong, but you can’t put your finger on it.

you know what? let’s get into that ‘pasted texture’ thing.

let’s imagine you’re an artist working on a professional game. you’re assigned to draw cgs of kokichi ouma, who has a checkered scarf from hell. sure, it will be terrible to draw, but you only have to draw it once at a time! plus, perspective is pretty important, right? can you be bothered? nah, actually. let’s just copy paste a checkered pattern into the cg, because I’m sure nobody will notice. it’ll blend right in with the other cgs that someone actually put effort into drawing his scarf in, right?

no. the answer is no and I very much noticed. this genuinely looks terrible and I would understand taking a shortcut like that in fanart or even an indie game but this is a full price pc and console distributed game

(an addition: look at kokichi’s TINY HANDS in that last one)

meanwhile, they straight up forgot to color in kokichi’s scarf in this cg.

dude. I forgot about whatever the hell this cg was. anyway look at keebo please just look at him

lovin kaito’s baby arms

real talk, maybe you could argue that he’s missing muscle because he’s deathly sick, but most of his cgs don’t line up with this, and his arms just look disproportionate to his torso size (granted this is a consistent problem across all danganronpa games and a lot of characters have this weird problem, like hajime, but also kaito is bigger than hajime so I kind of have higher expectations of him) maybe it’s his stupid goatee and the way he reminds me of yasuhiro?? it creates this illusion that he’s older than he is and so I keep expecting him to look more like an adult

oh, also rantaro is missing some of his accessories in that video he made–you know the one–but I don’t wanna go back and screenshot it

also you may have noticed that I’m skipping all of the monokub cgs because I literally do not care about them and I’m not even bothering to check and see if they have artistic mistakes in them

JIMMY NEUTRON???

hey um uh kaito you seem to be missing your neck

hey guys do you like my pregame fanart

so, that done, the sprites are also pretty terrible at times. they’re not as interesting to go through, however, and downloading the full sprite sets for every character and studying every single one of them will drive me insane, so I’ll just sum some of the ones I noticed up. I made things for kaede and shuichi before deciding I wasn’t going to get into it, so here are these.

that said, other mistakes include kokichi missing his purple highlights in all of the sprites encompassing a specific pose, stray pixels all over the place on everyone, and everyone also has heavily inconsistent shading, but literally all I think about is how pregame shuichi is unshaded and two of kaede’s pregame sprites have glaring outfit change mistakes in them

anyway, thank you for taking the time to read my ridiculous ramble. in all seriousness, there’s this looming presence of some lack of communication in the development team, like with all the art and design inconsistencies, pieces and sprites that look rushed, stray pixels, and missing basic proportional stuff. these are the kinds of things that you supposedly have to pretty much have in the bag in order to get jobs in professional businesses, so it’s really weird to me that this game suffers from so many of these problems. it’s like they tried to make the art so much more crisp than the other games, but it fell on its face as they realized it was going to take longer to draw everything and they started to rush. it’s weird, because the coloring itself looks normal–it’s just sloppily drawn, and the proportions are a mess once put into the context of perspective. many of the cgs look like they were drawn by different people, and I’m still not over the fact that half of kokichi’s cgs have his scarf pasted in as a texture.

the moral of the story is that if you’re selling a game at full price that also happens to be in a series that has had 3 very good games in it already the stakes should probably be higher than this. v3 has been out for more than 3 years and it’s still $40 (did it cost more than that before? I sure hope not), and the overarching quality of the game is just not as high as the other games. I’m not saying that the other games don’t have any problems with their art at all, they’re just not as glaringly obvious and every artistic choice in those games feels intentional.

regardless, I had a blast roasting the art at 2am, so maybe you got a kick out of all this chaos.

[tendermiasma]

i’m not even into overwatch anymore but i just wanted to say I ADORE your art style and hope to develop my own into a similar semi-realism leaning...have you made a post about your art journey? I’m assuming I just need to buckle down and do anatomy studies but any tips are very welcome!! Ty for your time <3

Oh man thank you! I’ve never made a comprehensive post about how I got to *gestures* whatever this point in my art this is, and I definitely sat here wondering what “art journey” means for me since I always feel like I’m stumbling around so I’ll answer as completely as I can. But a great way to develop a realism-minded eye is to draw from photos and life. Everyone in the world has said it over and over but it really gets it done, it’s not any more complicated than that. It’s how I started when I was little and it’s not something I planned, but the Legolas posters were right there so how could I not? Your own non-realism “stylistic” touch will bubble up whether you want it to or not and that’s a beautiful thing. It’s not something you need to look for because it happens on its own, whether it’s you seeing something another artist is doing that you like and assimilating it into your work, or it’s your own unique way that you absorb information from the world and use it to solve problems in the drawing in front of you. Some new artists also still have the idea that using references is cheating-- I’m not blaming them, sometimes this weird thing is circulated by more established people as well-- but this is a very small minority. Please use references. I’d be lost without them. The Castlevania team has a giant collection of references for faces of every character from every angle, props, etc. and I always have a second screen up with 10 different sheets of whoever I’m drawing. Feeding yourself info is essential to getting better. Look at how other artists handle something you’re having a problem with too. If they’re doing a similar pose or something, study their drawing and ask yourself what specifically, extremely technically about that drawing is convincing-- what marks are where, and what is the quality or direction of the strokes? Try it out on your own drawing. If you’re stuck, become aware of if you’re holding on too tightly to what you think something should look like. I have to remind myself this as well. Really try to let go of the idea you have in your head about how something works and simply try instead to draw what you see, even if it feels weird. The results are often pleasantly surprising. 

I have a funny relationship with studies. You seem to be looking at them like a chore and I feel the same way. It’s impossible for me to sit down and just draw something over and over, disconnected from emotion or a larger narrative. I think a wonderful way to “study” is to incorporate those studies into a project that you wanted to do anyway. I’ve used my minicomics to get better at background painting or specific figure poses that I needed for the story but wasn’t sure how to do. I’m a very “oops I need it now better learn TODAY” kind of artist, if that suits you better than buckling down and doing anatomy studies for hours. Both are great ways to improve, but you have options for how to get there. 

In terms of how much time I spend drawing.. well lol it’s a lot. I almost typed “but I don’t do it every day” but yes, my jobs have made sure that I do (I tend to separate personal drawing and job drawing). But the truth is, to get better, a lot of very focused drawing time is important; how much of it is up to you and your schedule. You can sit down for 6 hours and doodle or you can sit down for 3 with an extremely critical eye. It’s about the volume of time as well as focus and I don’t have a clear answer for it, but I can point to one specific year in my life where I made artistic progress like I’ve never seen from myself since. I drew a comic with regular updates during that time and, looking back, the art was not good. But the point was, I was drawing for 7 hours a day after work, at least 5 days a week, and actively looking to draw things that I hadn’t done before or knew that I wasn’t good at, and the result was that every single update was almost like it was drawn by a different person-- readers noticed and commented on the progress as well. It was very much an art bootcamp and I wouldn’t have the skills I do at this point if I hadn’t done it. It’s important that you’re loving what you do if you do it for yourself! That’s how you get through big projects and continue to be excited with where you are. Love is one of the most important motivators and discipline-keepers in art, in my experience. Draw what sets your brain on fire and attack it wholeheartedly even if it’s really weird or niche, not what you think you should be drawing, and you’ll improve a million times faster.

Art journey in terms of what I’ve done with my life (if this is what you meant from the beginning I’M SORRY I’m just trying everything you might have meant) uhhh I haven’t been to art school. I have no idea what my relationship with art would be like now if I’d had any formal training and I don’t really dwell on it. I could either be a testament to being able to get by without it or an example of someone who has no idea what she’s doing at all and lacks many basic foundational art skills. I have an architecture degree. I love architecture, I love the language of space we build for ourselves, and I’m truly, deeply glad for that eye-opening and often grueling experience, but I think my current field is a much better fit. Before animation I worked as a graphic designer mainly drawing storyboards for commercials and internal-industry stuff-- lots and lots of quick colored sketches (one of our main clients was a big glass company and my god I never thought I’d draw so much glass in my life). I was able to do that job due to the skills I developed through personal work. Maybe I’d be a hundred times more powerful if I went to art school! Maybe I’d be completely burned out and bitter and not drawing anymore at all! I just don’t know. I have friends who have had both experiences. Whether you choose art school or not it’s best to keep tabs on if the art you’re currently making brings you joy. Joy and struggle aren’t mutually exclusive. Oftentimes I’m drawing something I care deeply about but it’s VERY FUCKING HARD and I’m frustrated but it’s worth it.

I also do everything while being very scared of the thing. I have a lot of deep-seated anxiety that I’m constantly trying to root out and my brain compulsively twists things around into why I can’t do something, why people secretly know I’m below-par and are just too nice to tell me, how I’m “tricking” people into thinking I’m better than I am, etc. It’s so bad that my first thought when I was initially offered the art test for my current job was to say no; not because I didn’t want it so badly it hurt, but because I thought I’d be too much of a disappointment.  After completing the test I spent an hour figuring out the most gracious way to apologize for not being enough. It’s common, but not something to accept and we’re all working on it. I just thought it was important to mention because art is also a mental journey and forces you to do all this navel-gazey shit in order to advance, and feeling like you are Not Enough is rife in the creative community. The work feels entangled with my value as a person because art is a massive part of my life. Something I’m learning is that I don’t have to be confident or sure of myself all the time. This ensures that the process is usually painful and frightening. Often there’s no way to make it less painful or frightening, and I just have to hold my breath and do it. An oddly comforting thing to me the past couple years is to remind myself that the scary thing I’m about to do won’t be the scariest thing I’ll ever do. I implies both that this isn’t the pinnacle of my progress and also that I will inevitably get over it. If you continue with art you’re going to run into things like this and I guess if it was me it would’ve been helpful to know I’m not alone in it.

I hope that maybe answered some of your questions, maybe? If you have some specific questions feel free and I’ll try my best. Hope you have a good day/night!

[yutahoes]

Be My Eyes

genre: angst (?), tragic (?), this is pretty sad. 

word count : 3.3k words

A lot of things do come to you in surprise. Sometimes, they're happy things. Sometimes, sad things. But now, you were angry. Why did this have to happen? That's the only thing you can think of. 

Of all the things that can fail, why your eyes? All you ever wanted was to paint, the only thing that makes you happy yet here you are suddenly suffering from blindness. You could just lose a limb or even be deaf. But the Almighty Being chose that you suffer blindness. God is really unfair. 

You don't know how to navigate outside your hospital room but you just wanted to get out of the stuffy confined space. You tried to reach for the walls, stumbling on things that you weren't sure of, before reaching the door where you even bumped your head. Damn it, this is hard enough. How can you even live normally now? 

Instead of feeling the hard wall, your fingers felt flesh. A person. You quickly bowed at the person you bothered then tried to reach out your hand for a wall. "Wait, where are you going?" You heard someone ask. You honestly don't want to tell the guy where you wanted to go. He might be a doctor. 

Instead, you just continued feeling the wall until someone held the back of your hospital gown, pulling you back. "You'll bump your head." The same person as earlier. You've already given up. Your life wouldn't be normal again. You're sure of that. Why are you even trying? 

"Where are you going?" That voice again. This might be the only positive effect of your blindness, your hearing heightened. "Let me take you to where you want to go." 

You were still standing at the same place, one hand on the wall while the other tried to locate the person talking to you. Should you trust him? What if he's some psycho? But then, that would be better. You wanted everything to end anyways. 

"Rooftop." You said quietly, not sure if the man was still listening to you. 

He held your hand and you felt warm. He then placed your hand on his forearm. "It's the other way. Come on, I'll bring you to the rooftop." You decided to follow this man, letting him guide you. Your parents will get mad at you for trusting someone so easily but he's so gentle, careful with every step he takes. 

All you could see is black but you know you're in an elevator. The faint smell of metal, the gears turning, you can even hear murmurs so it isn't just you and him inside the machine. 

His arm feels muscular, skin so smooth. You can also smell a faint musky cologne. His hand held yours that was wrapped on his forearm, not letting you go. If someone would probably see you, you'll look like a couple. But he's a stranger. A stranger who just decided to help you find your way. 

You felt the cold breeze on your face when you stopped in your tracks. You must be on the rooftop now. The stranger let go of your hand, tapping your shoulder in assurance. You felt cold all of a sudden. Because of the wind? Because the stranger left you? You're not sure. 

The scenery might look beautiful. You had always liked rooftops and what you can see from the top of buildings. It's always a colorful sight, a sight full of wonder. 

Which you cannot see now. 

Your hands touched the cold metal of the rooftop rail. You just wanted to end everything. Without your sight, life would be useless. You can't even go to this rooftop without someone's help. And now, no one will really help. 

You can feel your hands shaking in fright. What will happen to you now? Alone. Blind. Your knees weakened as you felt yourself dropping on the cold, rough asphalt of the rooftop. Tears were gushing out of your eyes. Surprised that a blind person can still produce tears. 

There were sounds of footsteps nearing you and you realized that the rooftop is still a public place for patients. You must have looked too pathetic now. Something covered your head that startled you then someone tapped your back as you were still crouched on the ground. The faint smell of musky cologne. The stranger. "You're still alive. You can still do great things."  He said, confirming that he is indeed that stranger. "There's a rainbow in every storm." 

A rainbow that she cannot see anymore. "I'll make you see the rainbow." You tried to look at him in confusion, what is he talking about? "I'll be your eyes from now on." 

--

You don't know if what he said was true but it's been two days that he's always in your hospital room. The first time, he brought fruits, and even if you can't see anything, you knew those fruits by smell. And he praised you, claiming that you're seeing things a different way. The second time, he brought you flowers which smells lovely. He said those were lavenders and they were light purple. You don't even know what it is at first but now you can envision the lavender flowers in your head. He's right. You're seeing things in a new light. 

The third day, he brought you chocolates and coffee making the nurse annoyed that she quickly pushed your friend away. "You're one lucky girl, do you know that?" She asked while fluffing your pillows. Lucky? How? "He's really handsome. What is his name?" 

You still don't know. You haven't asked for his name. He's handsome? Then he might be the same age as you. Why aren't you curious about him? You promised to ask questions about him the next day he'll come to your room. 

The fourth day, fifth day, and the sixth day came but he didn't show up. Even your doctor teased that you don't have new flowers which you normally have every check-up day. Maybe he's tired, you thought. Who in their right mind would visit a sick person in the hospital every day? But why is he here that time? Is he also sick? 

You've already given up on knowing about the stranger when you heard the door opened, making you sit up on the bed. That musky smell. "Oh, sorry. Are you resting? I'll come back later." His voice. He's back. 

"No, it's fine." You said then sat properly as you heard his footsteps getting closer. You sighed. A lot of questions were running in your mind when he was not here. Now, you don't know what to ask him first. "How are you?" You chirped then regretted it. You sounded so happy. 

You heard him chuckle. An enchanting sound that made you automatically smile. "You're really pretty, Y/N." He whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Wait, how did he know your name? And he thinks you're pretty? 

"What…?" A lot of questions were now running in your mind but you think only one mattered now, "What's your name?" 

Again, a chuckle. "Yuta Nakamoto. Nice to meet you, Y/N." 

--

A lot of things are not yet answered but having Yuta in your hospital room every single day has made every waking day happier. You always wait for him in the morning and when he's there, a smile wouldn't leave your face. When afternoon comes, you'll be sad to see him go but he would always promise to come back in the morning. 

It feels great when you're together, even the nurses were saying that you look good together. It's only natural that you fell for him. A guy you can't even see. A guy you can only hear and smell. But a guy you slowly had developed feelings for. 

It was one afternoon, the two of you hanging out on the rooftop. Yuta was asleep next to you as you listened to the calmness of the wind. Your fingers trailed to where he is, feeling his warmth. This must be his arms, you thought, and trailed your fingers up feeling his skin. He must have comfortable arms. Maybe he does work out. Those were the only thoughts in your head when you felt the muscles on his arm. 

Your fingers went to his chest and your thought of him working out is confirmed. You remembered the statue of David that your art class would always draw. His body resembled that. You can also feel the lines on his stomach and blushed at the thought that Yuta would look good shirtless. When your finger moved south, a hand blocked yours. "Aren't you progressing too fast?" He asked with a hint of playfulness, holding your hand. "You can just ask me, you know?" 

You blushed hard at that, trying to slip your hand away from Yuta who just held your hand tight. "I just want to know if you're really human and not some kind of a monster." He laughed wholeheartedly, sitting up. 

Yuta held both your hands, placing them on his cheeks. "Feel me." Your thumb pressed on his cheekbones and they felt warm. He really is human. Your fingers went north to his forehead then trailed down to his eyes, feeling his long eyelashes that you envied. Yuta might have really lovely eyes. You went south to his nose then his lips. They're so soft. 

The next thing you knew those lips were on yours, confirming how soft it is. He pressed feather-like kisses on your lips, hand on the back of your head to pull you closer. Both of your hands held on his shoulder, slipping on the back of his neck as the kiss grew deeper. 

It's ironic, you thought. How can the person who made you breathe again make you breathless like this? "I love you, Y/N." He whispered then kissed you again. His hold on you and the way his lips devour you made you melt. You love him, you know you do. "I love you, Yuta." 

He must have done something today or maybe the doctors just don't care about the two of you but it's already night time and he's still here. You're still on the rooftop. You were lying down, his arm served as your pillow while he caressed your head, threading his fingers on your hair. "Y/N, what do you want to do most if you're going to see again?" 

"I want to paint again." You said almost immediately, missing the paintbrush in your hand and the smell of paint. "I want to paint the view outside the hospital window. The rainbow." You nuzzled your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. "I want to paint you." 

He chuckled which vibrated on his chest, making you smile. "I wish you would paint me like one of your French girls, Jack." You giggled at that. Maybe. 

But you knew that was impossible. You can never get your eyesight back. You cannot paint anything. You cannot paint Yuta. 

--

"I promised you a rainbow, didn't I?" He asked when he came to your room. He placed a ceramic on your lap, letting you feel the rough surface. A rainbow. "Do you remember the colors of the rainbow?" You nodded, even first graders know that. "Here." He handed you a paintbrush that made you annoyed. How can you paint this rainbow when you can't even see colors? 

"Yuta…" But he hushed you, opening something that you heard a pop. A smell of cherries filled the hospital room. "Cherry?" 

"Cherries are?" He asked, guiding your hand that was holding the paintbrush. You felt it dip into something and the smell of cherry is stronger now. "They're red. The first color of the rainbow." He guides your other hand to feel the edge of the ceramic you are coloring. You really are painting. 

Once you're done with the red cherries, he opened another one that smells of oranges. Orange, the second color of the rainbow. "You're painting now." He complimented and you realized that it was you alone who's painting the ceramic. You don't even know what it looks like but you can envision what it seems like you're doing. Yellow is banana while green is symbolized by a minty smell. 

"Indigo is kind of hard so I used a light blue for blue and deep blue for indigo. I'm sorry." He explained while opening something that smells like cotton candy. You were transported to your childhood and the pastel blue cotton candies in carnivals. For indigo or the deep blue, he used blueberries. And last but not the least, lavenders for violet. "You painted a rainbow." 

You smiled. He really did what he promised. "Yuta, thank you." 

"You know I'll do everything for you, Y/N." 

-- 

It's been two days since you got discharged from the hospital. And each day, you grew lonelier. Your parents are gone, most of the time you're alone. And Yuta never called or visited you. 

You gave him your address, even your phone number so why isn't he going to you? Why isn't he calling you? Is it because you can paint now? Because he made you see, feel and smell rather, the rainbow? Is your little romance gone? 

It was night, darker than usual when you heard someone knock on the door. It's dangerous. You're a woman, a blind woman. What if he's a robber? "It's Yuta. Y/N, please open up. Are you home?" Then your phone rang that he obviously heard. 

When you opened the door, he immediately hugged you. His warmth. His musky smell. It really is Yuta. "I miss you. I miss you," he repeated, mumbling the same words. "I'm sorry, love." 

You don't know what's happening. You don't know why he's here but you didn't care. The only thing that matters is Yuta next to you. "I love you, Y/N." He repeated, lips not leaving yours and showing you that he indeed loves you. 

The moment you woke up, you felt the coldness of the bed. Is that all a dream? Where is Yuta? Is this another waiting game for days? You'll wait until Yuta shows up again. You were convinced it was a dream, he just came then went. 

But your body is reacting otherwise. You can still feel his touch, his lips. You can hear his voice mumbling your name and his scent. He's not a dream. 

It was just four days after what you felt like a dream when you received a phone call. "You have a cornea donor." A donor? She gave up on that. What is this about? And why isn't she feeling happy? 

When the bandage was taken away, your vision had come back that you squinted because of the light. Is it always this bright? They gave you a mirror to look at your new pair of eyes. Sparkly, twinkling, compelling. You felt like you were sucked in by those dark orbs. A feeling that made your heart wrench. 

A tear escaped your eyes and the nurses panicked. That's not supposed to happen. "Yuta," you whispered. If there was one thing that you wanted to do if you get your vision back, that would be to see Yuta. "I want to see Yuta." 

The nurses avoided your look, even the doctors were not looking at you. Why? They know who Yuta is. Why can't they look into your eyes? Or the stranger's eyes rather. "Who's my donor?" You asked calmly but no one answered you. You shouted the same question and that's when one nurse handed you a piece of paper. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N. We promised him that we won't tell." 

You unfolded the paper which had the prettiest handwriting. The smell of paper mixed with ink and the musky scent. Yuta's scent. 

'Hi Y/N.' The letter started. 'Sorry, I don't have the confidence to tell you this. I know you'll cry and I don't want that to happen. If you're reading this letter, I want you to smile. That's a good sign.' But you can't. How can you even smile now? 

'The first time I saw you, I was really attracted to you. You are so pretty. But you look prettier when you cry. You're prettier when you look at me. I wish you could see what I can see. That you're an amazing person for not giving up.' 

'Thank you for making my heartbeat again. Every night all I could ever pray is for Him to extend my life so I can spend more time with you. But life is unfair. If only I knew you sooner.'

'I'm sorry for being a coward. For hiding everything. But every time I see that smile on your lips, I get reminded how thankful I should be for breathing another day. Thank you for making me feel alive again.' 

'Thank you for being my sunshine and giving color to my life. I love you, my rainbow.' 

There was a smudge on his name, a tear stain. And you felt yours staining the paper some more. 

Everything slipped in your mind. The first time you met. The countless times he's in the hospital. That time at the rooftop. Why didn't you realize that? He stays in the same hospital as you. The reason why he doesn't want you to give up and promised you a rainbow. 

The warmth of the breeze comforted you as you scrunched the letter closer to your chest. Every time you finish reading Yuta's letter, you can't help but let a tear escape your eyes. Yuta's eyes. 

Now, everything made sense. How your world became brighter when you regained your vision, how everything looked hopeful. It might not be possible, you might be crazy, but you're seeing Yuta's view of the world. He really did mean it when he wished that you can see what he can see. 

"He loves you, you know?" Someone said from behind and you bowed at the older man in white. The hospital's oncologist. "He changed a lot because of you." He then smiled as if remembering something, "Nakamoto, that rascal." You smiled. He probably missed Yuta more.

He shared that Yuta came to the hospital months before you and he knew what's going to happen to him. "He refused treatment, already giving up on life." He shared that made you purse your lips. "One day he just came to me and said he met someone in the hallways. A girl so pretty especially when she cried." You giggled at that and he laughed. "He asked me if it's alright to date in the hospital and I let him." 

"The things he brought…" 

"He would always bother the nurses to get him things." He said with a laugh. "Then he came to me, one night, asking if he can do the chemotherapy." His voice got so serious that you just looked at the sky to avoid the heavy atmosphere. "We tried but it was too late. He knew it cannot save him." 

A tear escaped your eyes again. He had been having a hard time all by himself. "He's going to be mad at me for making you cry." The older said with a chuckle. "That night, he begged to get out of the hospital to see you even if it's dangerous for him. The morning after, he was coughing too much blood but the last words he said is that he's happy to be with you in his last breath.” You choke on your sob. Until the end, he was thinking of you. 

“It was also his idea to donate his cornea to you once he’s gone.” The older laughed. “We had to break hospital protocols just to see your records.” You laughed. He really did all those things just for you. It made you miss him more. You wish that you had a chance to see him. The doctor tapped the top of your head. “Don’t tire yourself out. I’m sure Yuta is watching over you.” He pointed at the ray of color gracing the sky that made you nod. 

He really must be watching over you. Your rainbow. Your eyes. Nakamoto Yuta. 

[alittlewhump]

Unbidden - Act 1, chapter 2

Masterlist | Previous | Next

Content warnings: None, still pretty light here.

It wasn't long before they reached a small encampment where another woman called out to the one who had been guiding Morgan. "Fiona, I swear you're the worst scout we have. There's something following you, you know."

The rogue - Fiona - put her hands on her hips.

"I'll have you know, Akara, that this is an adventurer. He's going to combat our evil."

"And why didn't you send him to the den?"

"I just wanted your blessing, ma'am."

"More like you didn't want to go out of your way." The woman, evidently a superior of some sort, looked Morgan over with a cool gaze. "There's a monster den about half an hour's walk to the west of here. They've been giving us some trouble. If you can exterminate them, we'll talk."

Talking was very low on the list of things Morgan wanted to do. But eliminating a nest of evil creatures - that was a good task, easily defined with no messy human contact. And, of course, it would also contribute in a small way toward restoring the Balance, to fulfilling the request that had sent him out here in the first place. Surely it was more than just one den causing problems, but they likely wanted to test his ability. He nodded to show he'd understood, then turned to go. The two women continued to talk as he left.

"Is he mute, or what?"

"Nah, he talks. But listen, you'll never believe this -"

He stopped listening. There were more important things to think about, like whether or not it would be worth the effort to concentrate on making clay golems instead of using skeletons. He debated as he walked, keeping an ear out for sounds of danger. Skeletons were plentiful in these parts, he'd discovered. So that was convenient. He paused to raise two out of a boggy patch of ground. Two was a good number, enough to draw enemy attention away without draining his energy too much. He could only manage one earth golem at a time, but if other risen skeletons were attacking the Sisterhood... yes, the extra effort was probably worth it to ease future interactions. He could always reserve the skeletons for use away from the encampment, lay them back down into the earth outside their view.

Morgan stopped, crouching down to touch the ground. He sent out a tendril of magical energy, spreading it thin to form a humanoid shape. The earth lifted, obedient but slow, a form rising up ponderously. It took almost a minute to fully form, and Morgan was breathing hard by the end of it. It was a small golem, only a little taller than him but considerably sturdier. It would do for now. He was admittedly a little out of practice, but he resolved to keep working at it. Later, after this den was taken care of.

It was early the next morning by the time Morgan returned to the rogue encampment. The nest of imp demons had presented a challenge, but not an insurmountable one. He'd had to rest afterwards, taking a few hours to meditate. It wasn't quite sleeping, but it was close enough. He'd also remembered to put his skeletons back into the ground outside the view of the little town. A clay golem plodded along by his side; he was just more comfortable with at least one construct to protect him.

A familiar voice raised a call as he approached the town gate. "Hey, ghoul boy's back!" The encroaching forces of darkness must have taken a toll on their numbers, Morgan surmised. Why else would a scout have two watch shifts so close to one another? The sooner he could get to the root of the problem, the better - for all of them.

The gate rolled open and a new woman approached. Judging by her more impressive-looking armour, Morgan guessed her to be some sort of commander. When she spoke, she certainly had the tone of a leader.

"I didn't think we'd see you back here, outlander. Did you clear the den of monsters?"

"They were demons, not monsters." He hung back by the gates, reluctant to enter without an explicit invitation.

"Demons. Monsters. I don't care what they are other than dead. Are they dead?"

"Yes."

"Good. Welcome to the Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye - what's left of it, anyway. Fiona says you're here to cleanse the evil from this place. She also says you came out of the woods alongside some skeletons, so I'm not sure what to believe. Tell me about yourself, stranger."

A few more women clad in light armour had appeared, hanging back behind their leader. Not so different from the imps he'd just finished with, Morgan thought - skittish, wary. He decided to keep that comparison to himself. No sense in actively antagonizing them. They were already poised to dislike him based on his school of magic, based on his experience so far. It was possible that whoever had sent the request to his Order had done so in secret. It was also possible that they had passed on already, given the sorry state of things. He tried to skirt the issue delicately.

"I am a follower of Rathma. We are charged with maintaining the Balance between light and darkness. We received word of a source of evil nearby that threatens to disrupt that Balance. I seek to destroy it. If you can direct me-"

"The priests of Rathma are necromancers, are they not?" This was the woman from before, Akara. He hadn't noticed her standing behind the rest of them. He recognized the disdain in her face, her voice. He'd been hoping to avoid this type of interaction, but he'd never been able to figure out a good way to dodge the question without lying outright. And while he could technically lie - there wasn't anything physically or magically preventing it - he had never developed the barest shred of skill in the art of deceit, and it was impossibly difficult to guess what people would or wouldn't believe in any given situation. In cases where the truth would be unwelcome, the best option was usually to try to deflect.

"I don't intend to do you any harm," he tried.

"Answer the question, then. Yes or no."

Well, it had been worth trying. It seemed like Akara knew the answer anyway, and just wanted to hear it from him, for some reason.

"Yes."

Most of the women took a horrified step back, grimacing in disgust or fear. He didn't let it bother him on a personal level - it was easiest to work from the assumption that everyone would have these sorts of feelings toward him, based on either his appearance or his affiliation - but it rarely bade well for situations like this in which he needed information. The commander didn't flinch, which was heartening. She turned to face Akara.

"We can't afford to be choosy right now, Priestess. Whatever his methods, this is the best chance we've had in a while. I'm not going to waste it." She turned back to Morgan. "You'd do best to start by finding Deckard Cain. Word is, he knows just about everything there is to know. If he still lives, he should be able to tell you more about the evil that blights our land here."

He listened carefully as she described this scholar and his last known whereabouts. It was a good plan, to gather as much information as possible before properly facing down whatever evil had rooted there. It would likely take a few days to reach Tristram, which would give him time to work on his golems. He was pleased with these developments until the commander turned to address the women huddled behind her.

"Blaise, you'll go with him."

What? No, this wouldn't do at all. Other people just complicated things. What Morgan needed was the simplicity of solitude with his golems. He raised his hands in protest. "Madam, I really don't-"

"What the fuck, Kashya?" That was presumably Blaise, voicing a much louder objection. "Are you still mad about that thing last week? I said I was sorry, I don't deserve-"

"That wasn't a request," Kashya said calmly. "I think you're the best one for the job, and I won't hear any arguments. Now get your things together for the journey." The assembled rogues huddled in a group, chattering quietly amongst themselves as Blaise turned on her heel and stalked away. Morgan took a few steps toward their commander.

"Please, madam Kashya, I ask you to reconsider-"

"When I said no arguments, I meant it. Two heads are better than one. Now you can wait outside; you're making my girls nervous."

Morgan waited outside. It was clear that the matter was not open for discussion. He guessed that pushing it further would only serve to alienate the single person who seemed at all willing to work with him. One was better than none, so he would try to stay on her good side.

[beastars-takes]

Zootopia Takes: Darker’s Not Better

The Shock Collar Draft

So, it sounds like people are largely positive on me doing some Zootopia posts on this blog, and I wanted to talk about this tweet I saw the other day:

I’ll punt on explaining why Beastars isn’t “Dark Zootopia”--that’s a great topic for another post. But I would like to talk about why this popular yet stridently uninformed tweet is so, so wrong. Why the shock collar draft was not better, actually.

And obviously, I’m not writing several pages in reply to a single tweet--this is a take that’s been around since the movie came out, that the “original version was better.” It’s been wrong the whole time.

Let’s talk about why!

Part 1: “Because Disney”

Let’s start with this--the assumption that the film’s creators wanted to make this shock collar story and “Disney” told them to change it.

That’s not how it works.

I try to keep stuff about me out of these posts as much as possible, but just for a bit of background, I’ve worked in the animation industry for about half a decade. I know people at Disney. I have a reasonable idea of how things are there.

There is this misconception about creative industries that they’re constantly this pitched battle of wills between creative auteurs trying to make incredible art and ignorant corporate suits trying to repress them.

That can happen, especially in dysfunctional studios (and boy could I tell some stories) but Walt Disney Animation Studios is not dysfunctional. It’s one of the most autonomous and well-treated parts of the Disney Company.

The director of Zootopia, Byron Howard, isn’t an edgelord. He made Bolt and Tangled. He knows what his audience is, and he’s responsible enough not to spend a year (and millions of dollars in budget) developing a grimdark Don Bluth story that leadership would never approve. It wouldn’t just be a waste of time--he would be endangering the livelihoods of the hundreds of people working under him. Meanwhile, Disney Animation’s corporate leadership trusts their talent. They don’t generally interfere with story development because they don’t need to. Because they employ people like Byron Howard.

Howard and the other creative leads of Zootopia have said a dozen times, in interviews and documentaries, that they gave up on the shock collar idea because it wasn’t working. They’ve explained their reasoning in detail. Maybe they’re leaving out some of the story, but in general? I believe them.

But Beastars Takes, you say, maybe even if Disney didn’t force them to back away from this darker version, it still would have been better?

Part 2: Why Shock Collars Seem Good

I will say this--I completely sympathize with people who see these storyboards and scenes from earlier versions of the movie and think “this seems amazing.” It does! A lot of these drawings and shots are heartbreakingly good, in isolation.

I love these boards. They make me want to cry. I literally have this drawing framed on my wall. Believe me, I get it.

But the only reason we care this much about this alternative draft of Zootopia is that the Zootopia we got made us love this world and these characters. You know what actually made me cry?

Oh, yeah.

So let’s set aside the astonishing hubris of insisting Zootopia’s story team abandoned the “good” version of the story, when the “bad version” is the most critically-acclaimed Disney animated feature in the past SIXTY YEARS.

“But Beastars Takes!” I hear you say. “Critics are idiots and just because something’s popular doesn’t make it good!”

Fair enough. Let’s talk about why the real movie is better.

Part 3: The Message (it is, in fact, like a jungle sometimes)

This type of thing is always hard to discuss, in the main--a lot of people don’t want to feel criticized or “called out” by the entertainment they consume, and they don’t want to be asked to think about their moral responsibilities. But it’s hard to deny that Zootopia is a movie with a strong point of view. Everything else--the characters, the worldbuilding, the plot, grows out from the movie’s central statement about bias.

And the movie we got, with no shock collars, makes that statement far more effectively.

To dive into the full scope of Zootopia’s worldview and politics (warts and all) would be a whole post on its own, so I’ll just summarize the key point of relevance here:

Zootopia's moral message is that you, the viewer, need to confront your own biases. Not yell at someone else. No matter how much of a good or progressive person you consider yourself to be--if you want to stand against prejudice you have to start with yourself.

That’s a tough sell! For that message to land, we need to see ourselves in the protagonist.

Judy’s a good person! She argues with her dad about foxes. She knows predators aren’t all dangerous. She’s not speciesist. Right?

Ah fuck.

Let’s fast-forward to the pivotal scene of this movie. In an unfortunate but inevitable confluence of circumstances, Judy’s own biases and prejudiced assumptions come out, and she shits the bad.

Nick, who’s already bared his soul to her (against his better instincts), is heartbroken. But not as heartbroken as he is a minute later when he tries to confront her about what she’s said, and she makes this face:

Whaaaat? Come on, Nick. I’m a good person. Why are you giving me a hard time?

People like to complain about this scene. That it’s a hackneyed “misunderstanding” trope that could be easily resolved with a discussion. They’re wrong. Nick tries to have a discussion. She blows him off.

This isn’t Judy acting out of character, this is her character. Someone who identifies as Not A Racist, and hasn’t given the issue any more thought. This is not only completely believable characterization (who hasn’t seen someone react this way when you told them they hurt you?) it’s the film’s central thesis!

Yes, Nick somewhat provokes her into reaching for her “fox spray,” and her own trauma factors in there, but she’s already made her fatal mistake before that happens.

(As an aside, people also make the criticism that the movie unrealistically deflects responsibility for racism onto Bellwether and her plot. It doesn’t. All the key expressions of prejudice in the film--Judy’s encounter with Gideon, her parents’ warnings, the elephant in the ice cream shop, Judy’s early encounters with Bogo, Judy's views on race science--exist largely outside of Bellwether’s influence. She is a demagogue who inflames existing tensions, she didn’t invent them. Bogo literally says “the world has always been broken.”)

So, anyway. But we love Judy. She’s an angel. She also kinda sucks! She’s proudly unprejudiced, and when her own prejudice is pointed out to her she argues and doesn’t take it seriously. This is bad, but it’s also a very human reaction. It’s one most of us have probably been guilty of at one point or another.

Look at Zootopia’s society, too--it’s shiny and cosmopolitan, seemingly idyllic. Anyone can be anything, on paper. But scratch too deep beneath the surface and there’s a lot of pain and resentment here, things nobody respectable would say in public but come out behind closed doors, or among family, when nobody’s watching. It’s entirely recognizable--at least to me, someone who lives in a large liberal city in the United States. Like Byron Howard.

Wow, this place is a paradise!

Wait, what’s a “NIMBY”?

Part 4: Why Shock Collars Are Bad

So, with the film’s conceit established, let’s circle back to the shock collar idea. Like I said, it’s heartbreaking. It’s dramatic. It’s affective.

It also teaches us nothing.

If I see a movie where predator animals are subjected to 24/7 electroshock therapy, I don’t think “wow, this makes me want to think about how I could do better by the people around me.” I think “damn that shit’s crazy lmao. that’d be fucked up if that happened.” At a stretch, it reminds me of something like the Jim Crow era, or the Shoah. You know, stuff in the Past. Stuff we’ve all decided couldn’t ever happen again, so why worry about it?

The directors have said this exact thing, just politely. “It didn’t feel contemporary,” they say in pressers. That’s what it means.

If anything, the shock collar draft reifies the mindset that Zootopia is trying to reject--it shows us that discrimination is blatant, and dramatic, and flagrantly cruel, and impossible to miss.

And...that’s not true. If you only look for bias at its most malicious and evil, you’re going to miss the other 95 percent.

The messaging of this “darker version” is--ironically--less mature, less insightful, less intelligent. Less useful. Darker’s not better.

Part 5: Why Shock Collars Are Still Bad

So what if you don’t care about the message? What if you have no interest in self-reflection, or critical analysis (why are you reading this blog then lmao)? What if you just really want to hear a fun story about talking animals?

Well, this is trickier, because the remaining reasons are pretty subjective and emotional.

The creators have said that the shock collar version didn’t work because the viewers hated the cruel world they’d created. They agreed with Nick--the city was beyond saving. They didn’t want to save it.

The creators have said that Judy was hard to sympathize with, not being able to recognize the shock collars for the obvious cruelty they were.

Fuck you, Judy!

But we haven’t seen the draft copies. We haven’t watched the animatics. We have to take their word for it. Anyone who’s sufficiently invested in this story is going to say “well, I disagree with them.” It doesn’t matter to them that they haven’t seen the draft and the filmmakers have. The movie they’ve imagined is great and nobody is going to convince them otherwise.

But the fact remains that the shock collar movie, as written, did not work. And, if behind the scenes material is to be believed, it continued to not work after months and months of story doctoring.

There’s even been a webcomic made out of the dystopian version of Zootopia. It’s clever and creative and well-written and entertaining and...it kind of falls apart. The creator, after more than a little shit-talk directed at Disney, abandoned the story before reaching the conclusion, but even before then the seams were beginning to show. How do you take a society that’s okay with electrocuting cute animals and bring it to a point of cathartic redemption? You can’t, really. The story doesn’t work.

Does that mean people shouldn’t make fanworks out of the cut material? That they shouldn’t be inspired and excited by it? Hell no. This drawing is cute as hell. The ideas are compelling.

But I suppose what I’d ask of you all is--if you’re weighing the hot takes of art students on Twitter against the explanations of veteran filmmakers, consider that the latter group might actually know what they’re talking about.

See you next time!

[iamanartichoke]

Thank you for the tag, @teadrinkingwolfgirl!

2020 Creator Wrap

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought to the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

So, this is pretty embarrassing, insofar as I have not created much of anything this year and therefore have little to link to. So there are 2 links and 1 excerpt of a WIP. 

A Graveyard of Stars. I am actually really proud of this one. It’s the first (and only, so far) attempt I’ve made at writing Endgame!Thor, whose depression and nervous breakdown have made him a very different Thor from the one I am used to writing. I like to think I did an okay job, but more than that, it was really a great writing exercise bc I enjoyed really just exploring what I could do with the character. 10/10, would create again. 

The Sea at the End of a Cliff. A perpetual work in progress, but in my defense, I do have a plan. It’s just the “being motivated to write it” part I’m struggling with. This had a few updates this year and some pretty significant plot developments (addressing Brunn’s alcoholism, which I have been trying to do; Loki and Brunn breaking up, bc love isn’t always enough (and also angst); Dagny developing more as an OC and building a friendship with Loki; Loki and Tony developing their friendship; Loki and Thor perpetually being Loki and Thor). So even though it’s not much, I think I can still count it as a win. 

And my current work-in-progress, which started as a seed of an idea that wouldn’t leave me alone and which is a little bit complicated, plot-wise, which I’m trying to work out. My original goal was for it to be 10k, but it might end up 15k. Since I can’t link it yet, here’s an excerpt (which is a continuation of the snippet I posted recently and still needs a lot of polishing but whatever):

“I wouldn’t worry, brother,” Thor says, when Loki gives voice to his concerns - not just the long voyage to Earth but what, exactly, Thor intends to do there once they arrive. Certainly, there is no love lost for Loki. It is in all of their best interests for Loki to be long gone before the Statesman ever breaches Earth’s atmosphere. 

“I have a feeling everything’s going to work out fine,” Thor adds. 

They are standing at the huge window in Thor’s quarters, beyond which lies the vast openness of the stars. Loki glances from the window to Thor, and then back again, a flicker of a smile crossing his features. There is absolutely no reason to believe that everything is going to work out fine - and, in fact, ample reason to believe that exactly the opposite - but just for a moment, Thor’s optimism is a touch endearing. 

Instead of responding outright, Loki just inches a bit closer and nudges Thor’s shoulder with his own. It takes both of them by surprise; neither can remember the last time Loki had reached out and willingly touched Thor first. “You can be quite stupid,” Loki says, before Thor can voice it. 

Thor’s eyebrows draw together. “Why?” 

“Not everything will magically work out. It’s naive to believe that. You’re king now. Naivete is dangerous.” 

“I prefer optimistic, not naive.” Thor lifts his shoulders a bit. “We’ve just gone through Ragnarok, Loki. The end of everything. How can you blame me for wanting to believe it’ll get better from here?” 

“I don’t blame you; I just think it’s short-sighted.” 

“Stupid, you mean,” Thor supplies flatly. 

“Yes.” 

A muscle moves in Thor’s jaw, which makes Loki step away again, re-establishing the space that he’d closed a moment ago. “I suppose you think you know better? After all, you have been ruler of Asgard the past four years. Or were you too busy drinking wine and attending the theatre to concern yourself with the rest of the Nine Realms?” 

Loki hunches his shoulders, refusing to meet Thor’s gaze. He had started this conversation, but Thor’s tone grates on him now and he wishes that he’d said nothing at all. “Forget it,” he snaps. “I’ll keep my concerns to myself from now on.” 

“You be sure to do that.” Thor turns away; he stalks over to the liquor shelf and busies himself with pouring a drink. Loki watches, an odd sensation creeping over him, like he wants to crawl out of his skin. Perhaps Loki had been too blunt in calling Thor stupid, but that doesn’t mean he’s wrong. Thor has barely stepped foot on Asgard in the last four years - it is Loki who kept the realm afloat while Thor gallavanted around the galaxy doing norns knew what. 

Of course Loki enjoyed leisure time; any king would. That did not mean he’d shirked his responsibilities toward the throne. 

Stolen throne, a tiny voice nags him, a voice Loki resolutely ignores. It’s semantics anyway. 

“What,” Thor asks, when he realizes that Loki is just staring at him. 

Loki blinks and shakes his head. He intends to say nothing; instead, what comes out is, “I just wish you listened to me.” 

“You don’t have all the answers, brother, even if you like to pretend you do,” Thor counters. He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he sets down his half-empty glass. “I’m sorry. I value your opinion.” 

Loki snorts. 

“I do,” Thor insists. His gaze flickers over Loki and something in it softens. “I want you to be here with me, making decisions with me, helping me rebuild Asgard. It’s just that I hate it when you call me stupid. Always have.” 

Loki feels his shoulders slump a bit. “You’re not stupid,” he grants, “but you do stupid things. You act first, and think later. Our situation is so precarious now, I just …” He trails off, shaking his head. “I just worry.” 

“I didn’t realize you felt so strongly about the good of Asgard,” Thor responds, picking up his glass again. He takes a long swallow, so he doesn’t see the stricken look that surely crosses Loki’s face, if the way Loki’s heart drops without warning is any indication. 

Would I have come back if I didn’t? he wants to ask - but, Thor will likely just dismiss Loki’s actions as manipulative in some way, even if he had not yet figured out how. It is what always happens. 

Instead of giving voice to his hurt, Loki just shrugs. His features have recovered by the time Thor looks at him again.

My goal for January is to finish this fic, so we’ll see how it goes. But, there we are for my 2020 creations! Tagging @thelightofthingshopedfor @ms-aqua-marvella @wnnbdarklord @illwynd @lazy-cat-corner @writernotwaiting + anyone else who wants to! 

[mae-gi-writes]

Halloween Escapade | Jacob (The Boyz)

You and Jacob both dislike parties, so why not ditch it to get Mcdonald’s? 

Genre: fluff

A/N: I KNOW I’M ONE MONTH LATE FOR HALLOWEEN But I saved this in my drafts and forgot to post it. Nothing too intense, just a little cute Jacob. Enjoy <3 

-----

“You mind doing my makeup?" Looking up from your makeup palette, your heart does a little stutter at the sight of a dishevelled-looking Jacob decked in what seems to be a skeleton-themed shirt and pants. On the occasion of Halloween, the office had decided to close its doors early to celebrate. It was also a good excuse to order some good assortments of finger-picking foods and expensive cake. Being the artist that you were, you had brought along your entire makeup collection, ready to help out anyone in need of paint or decoration on their face.

But you had not expected Jacob, of all people, to be standing before you while shuffling his feet like a shy little schoolboy. He is obviously of a higher status than you are in the office, one of the Directors that has a certain percentage of shares, no doubt. You as a mere office worker that looked up to him in admiration, and had to admit that you had developed a little crush throughout the months of noticing his gentle and kind demeanour. "Uh--sure," you quickly stutter out before gesturing towards the seat, "you can sit here." He does so without complaint as you ask, "what kind of makeup do you want?" "Could you do a skull?" "Uhm--" that takes a long time, your brain screams out at you, "s--sure. No promises, though." "That's alright. The uglier the better anyway," he pauses, "not that your drawings are ugly, I--that's not what I meant." You chuckle softly signalling to him that it's all good. Opening up your palette and dabbing your sponge with white powder, you hesitate slightly before you start covering his face; his eyebrows, over his eyes, down the slope of his nose. He's gorgeous, you think to yourself while trying not to giggle at the thought of you two being so close in physical proximity. You hope that he can't hear the way your heart practically beats out of your chest, an excited hummingbird bursting out through your ribcage. "So...did you learn that yourself?" Jacob asks after a bout of silence. "Mostly. But I was always comfortable with painting and all that stuff," you start contouring his face with gray and silently appreciate the flawless texture of his skin, "I used to do makeup for halloween every year when I was still in school." "That's so cool. I wish I could paint like that," his eyes flutter open to momentarily gaze into your eyes, "the only thing I'm good at are numbers." "Well you know, I grew up wishing I was good at numbers." 'We always want something we can't have." "True," you start blending the black with the white, the makeup taking on a grey tone to create a shadow, "but if it makes you feel better, most people admire the ones who know their numbers well." "You sound like you know something about that." You just smile faintly, "I hope I don't sound too whiny. That wasn't my intention." "No, your honesty is...refreshing," he mumbles through closed lips as you brush over his face with the blender, "I mean, I don't really know how it feels because I'ver never faced this kind of problem. But I can understand how frustrating that might be, for people to judge someone based on their jobs." His compliment throws you off, so much so that you can't help the heat from spreading over your cheeks, "oh--uh, I hope that wasn't too rude. I wasn't trying to offend you or anything--" "No no, not offended," Jacob raises his hands in mock surrender, "I'd be frustrated too, in your place." His blunt sweetness makes your heart flutter and it makes you glad that his eyes are closed at this very moment, for it would've probably made you even more embarrassed to be looking at him face to face. Clearing your throat, you move to his eyes, applying soft dark smudges over his lids as he asks,"so, how do you find life here?" That's how it goes, with him sitting patiently and as still as a statue, and you painting the contours of his face while trying your best not to admire the beauty of the man sitting before you, a work of art you simply can't take your eyes off of. But the more you converse, the more you realize how much you have in common. And the result is astounding, to say the least. For starters, you would never have known that your superior hates socials the most, or that despite people at the office drinking their coffee black, Jacob prefers his coffee with lots of milk and sugar that is enough to cause him diabetes. Not that he's proud of it, mind you. It's not until someone coughs loudly behind Jacob that you realize he's been sitting there a lot longer than he's supposed to, jumping before quickly noticing the growing line of impatient people waiting for their makeup. "Oh sorry sorry!" He jumps up, as though startled he's stayed that long, "I'll leave you to it then, Y/N. Thank you so much for the makeup." "Oh no worries," your heart drops slightly at the thought that you'll never get the chance to talk to him like this again. But before you have time to dwell on that fact, another colleague is asking for a vampire kind of look. You lose sight of Jacob for most of the night, though small glimpses of his handsome figure is enough to entertain your little fantasy. You try not to feel so disheartened, knowing full well that there's not even a single strand of hope that he'll even look at you that way. Hell, he doesn' t even look at you. Stop being stupid, you tell yourself sharply. Nothing's never going to happen. He's probably already taken, idiot. "I'm going home," you mutter to your colleague as another song blasts through the stereo hall. The group protests but you shake your head and quietly slip out to leave all the noise behind, the night air welcoming you with its fresh chilly air. A soft sigh falls from your lips when you close your eyes for a brief moment. A car honks in the distance, you pay no mind. Let's go home, you think to yourself, body turning towards the subway station. You walk a few steps, only to hear another honk, closer this time. You stop and turn, a frown stitching your eyebrows together upon noticing a car pull up next to you. You're surprised to see Jacob's face greet you when the window rolls down. You blink at him. "Need a ride?" --------- That is how you find yourself sitting in Mcdonald's parking lot a few minutes later with warm food takeaways in your lap and the smell of fries wafting through the air, chatting with a man whom you'd deemed unapproachable for the past few months and realizing that there is so much more to what you see to him on a daily basis. You'd be lying to say that you don't feel your heart staggering every time he looks at you with those beautiful mahogany orbs that seem to hold galaxies. "I never used to celebrate Halloween," Jacob is saying as he pops a chip into his mouth, "my mother hates it, says it's useless to be celebrating an event that rouses the dead." "Technically, she's right." "Yeah, my five year old self didn't think so though." "You managed to celebrate in college?" He nods before pulling a face, "first and last time I drank till I puked." "That sounds fun," sarcasm drips from your voice before you laugh softly at the tongue he pulls out sat you. It's so easy to talk to him, too easy. It scares you, this foreign uninvited sensation of something fluttering through your ribcage as if you're constantly sitting on a swing that is going too fast for you. You talk about school, about where you come from, about how you sometimes miss your parents dearly and how hard it was at first, to be away from home for so long. And then he tells you about growing up, about his childhood dream of becoming a basketball player, one that broke the moment he realized it'd be much harder to actually get into the professional league. And then it quickly drifts to the troubles of life itself, to the nostalgia of losing friends when you grow up, to discussing multiple theories about what the future holds. "Woah, it's late," Your eyes widen in realization when you spot the time upon his dashboard. 3:30.a.m. "Oh," his own eyes go round, "shit I'm sorry. I didn't want to keep yo--" "No no, it's okay. I had fun," you smile softly at him while recalling yiur conversation, "I'm glad we got to talk." Relief breaks out as a sigh through of his lips, "that's good to know," his eyes find yours then, bathed in the reflection of the cheap streetlight hanging over your car, but you realise that it doesn't matter, for Jacob is ephemerally beautiful and carries that around with him wherever he goes. Your heart tugs when you realise that the night will have to end at some point, watching him pull out of the parking lot while asking you for directions to your house. The night started out with no expectations, with the sense that you can't breathe around the people you're surrounded with. Yet, this moment feels like a gust of oxygen bursting through your lungs. "Can I say something?" Jacob's voice pulls you out of your reverie as he turns onto your street, glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye. You hum for him to continue. He does after a few beats of hesitation. "You know you can talk to me, even if we're at the office," his murmur is so soft you barely catch it. You look at him in surprise, not expecting such words to fall from his lips. But the look he gives you is one that makes heat spread throughout your chest in parallel to the heat covering your cheeks. He continues, "I know that a lot of people are scared of me, because of what they think I might do considering my privileges. But take that title away and I'm just like everyone else." At this point, his vehicle wheels to a stop right before your front door and he turns his head so that your gazes clash, dark obsidian filled with a gentleness that you can't quite explain, though it causes your heartbeat to stutter. You gaze back though, trying to decipher the way his face softens and the tender way his lips are curved into a half-smile, as if you're sharing a private joke. "Well," you clear your throat, head whipping towards your door and hand finding the car handle, "I guess that's my stop." Biting your lip and debating whether to follow through with the aftermath of his words haunting your ears, you quickly turn back to him, "I don't think you're that kind of person. I don't think you could ever go behind someone's back just for the sheer fun of it," you see his gaze widen with surprise, "So don't worry about that." Jacob just stares at you in the pause that follows. You stare back, mentally debating whether you should just throw yourself out of the window for being so stupid or whether to ask the said man himself to run you over, so mortified at the prospect of having said such a thing that your orbs immediately drop to your lap. "I ...thank you," comes Jacob's whisper, "that...nobody has ever said that before." "A--Anyway, I should probably go--" you quickly scramble to open the car door only to be stopped by his hand swinging out to grab yours. "Wait," he says breathlessly, "I--Do you want to--you know maybe do this again? Sometime? I--" a shy smile dances across his lips, "I had fun, Y/N." Your heart swells. Your neck flushes with heat as your eyes drop to the ground, "I had fun too," you mumble, allowing his hand to slide down your arm until it reaches yours. His fingers, as soft as a dove's touch, gently twine around yours like vines and a breath catches in your throat. Jesus, he's perfect. "Yeah," your murmur, "I'd like to do this again." You don't want to look at him. You can't look at him, for you know that once you do there'll be no mistaking the blatant effect he has on you, and that is something you wish to keep to yourself a little longer. But that thought flies out of the window the moment you feel the softest of caresses upon your knuckles. Head shooting up to catch Jacob's lips skimming over the back of your head, a shiver runs through your spine the moment your eyes lock with all the feelings you've been attempting to cast aside for most of the night. "Great," he grins against your hand, "I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow?"

[mcustorm]

45 M/M Gay Movies, Ranked

The other day I bit the bullet and decided to watch Brokeback Mountain for the first time. All I knew about that movie was that it was basically the CMBYN of yesteryear and somebody got killed with a tire iron. Anyways, so I finish the movie and realize that I’ve seen a *lot* of gay movies, especially in the last couple of years. So here are my rankings according to nothing but my personal preference. I won’t write about all of them, but you can ask about something if I leave it out.

I wish I could give you a rubric for this. The reality is, there are some radically different movies on this list with different tones and intentions. There’s buddy comedies, tearjerkers, small indie features, big theater releases. So trying to rank them all is TUFF.

The Way He Looks - Such a beautiful coming-of-age movie. Maybe the 2nd one I saw on this list? Perfect length, perfect characterization, simple yet compelling, clever. And nothing feels better than reaching a happy ending (for once, because some of these movies’ endings-- SHEESH) that’s been earned. It just hasn’t been topped.

2. God’s Own Country

3. Pride

4. Kanarie - Yea, we don’t talk about this movie enough. It’s one of the most recent that I’ve seen. Beautiful. The way that it references apartheid and the war to reflect the protagonist’s feelings? Flawless.

5. Jongens - The first movie that I saw on this list, gets many a bonus point for that.

6. Moonlight - Yes, I am black. Yes, I understand this movie may be too low. Moonlight kind of scares me. In general, there’s not nearly enough discourse surrounding this one for me. But while it’s not exactly a popcorn-muncher, to me it’s the most personal movie on the list. When I look at Chiron and all that he’s been through, I can’t help but draw parallels to my own story up to this point. It holds a mirror up to me in a way that no other movie on this list does. That makes me uncomfortable.

But it is so poetic. Have you guys seen the script for this? The directing, the SOUNDTRACK, the acting. Phenomenal. 

7. Weekend

8. Call Me By Your Name - Yes, I am aware of people’s beef with this one. Yes, I understand a lot of people may feel this one is overrated. While I do think this one gets worse on rewatch, the truth is, it’s not really *that* overrated because hot take: most (meaning over half) of the movies on this list range somewhere from “just okay” to “painstakingly bad”.

It’s the score, the cinematography, the subtext in most all of the dialogue, the acting, the way that you can smell the apricots through the fucking screen. People who say this movie is a vacation ad are fucking CORRECT. One of my biggest gripes however is that it’s too fucking long. And uh, that age difference...

And Armie Hammer’s a weirdo...

9. Dating Amber* - Dating Amber has one of those “Duh” premises that sounds like it could’ve been done like 30 times before yet I can’t think of any other examples of it. So what you’d think would be a wacky premise actually turns out to be a frankly poignant movie with an emotional story arc for the main two characters.

10. Hello Stranger: The Movie* - This movie, which is the first sequel (sorta) on the list, frankly had no business being as good as it was. Even though the web series is required viewing, I felt the movie fixed like all of the series’ issues: pacing, lack of compelling drama, the awkward quarantine format. The drama and stakes are there without us having to visit Angst City. And the theme and the ending reprise is HEAT.

11. Uncle Frank* -  Uncle Frank is like The Help of gay movies. Like The Help, it’s *overall* a short, sweet and fluffy movie set decades ago. Like The Help, you’ll still come out of it feeling pretty good even though it has some dark moments. Also like The Help, you’ll wonder after the fact if the central white girl absolutely needed to be so...well, central for this story to be told. Bonus points for Paul Bettany and Character Actress Margo Martindale.

12. Brokeback Mountain - Tragic.

13. Moffie - Set during the South African border war, same as Kanarie. You even hear the word “moffie” throughout Kanarie. Anyways, this is a war movie for the gays, and a very intense watch. I liked that it was a much more realistic view of what a soldier endured during that period, and of course on the flip side I thought it was more thorough in its depiction of the rampant racism. I gotta find a good book on this era.

14. A Moment In the Reeds

15. Get Real - Maybe the most out of place movie on the list. I need to rewatch it. I do recall absolutely loving the score, however. Like, I fucks with this:

16. Freier Fall - When I finished Brokeback I was like, “Wait, wasn’t that just Free Fall with extra steps?” And yea, it kinda is. But even discount Brokeback is still pretty good.

17. Beautiful Thing - There are few things to like about this one, the relationship between the two guys, the mother’s love for her son even though it’s not all rainbows, that nice little final scene. I did not care for the dark-skinned woman being portrayed as, you know, the drug abusing, school dropout, gossipy, butt of jokes neighbor. But that guy really looks like Tom Holland tho.

18. Love, Simon - It’s at this point that I move from “Yea, that movie is good, you should watch it!” to “Look, you may like it, you may not.”

19. The 10 Year Plan - This movie is so fucking cheesy that there was cheddar coming though my speakers. But when I think of “Hallmark/Lifetime, but for the gays” this is the crown jewel. There’s some other movies on this list that could’ve taken some notes.

20. The Christmas Setup* - The trend of fluffy-white-gay-cable-network-movie continues and in good form. It’s not deep. It’s not really thought provoking. It’s cute. Fran Drescher is there. You should watch it.

21. Giant Little Ones

22. Hidden Kisses

23. Alex Strangelove - In a unique twist, the emotional core of this one is arguably between Alex and his girlfriend. All that ends up happening, however, is we the viewer keep wanting more Alex/Elliott scenes; those are the most electric in the whole movie. The end result is a hot yet endearing mess.

24. Fair Haven

25. The Thing About Harry - Freeform’s attempt at making a cheesy rom-com for the gays. It’s...okay. I personally feel like the main character’s friend is highkey trifling but it’s whatever.

26. Your Name Engraved Herein* - So I guess I’ve decided I officially hate angst. I mean, I get how it’s often necessary to tell an effective story, but I’m just not here for 2 hour indie angst fests that get passed off as “high art” anymore. I cannot do it. Somehow this is Brokeback’s fault...there just has to be a better way to tell gay stories in the 2020′s. Anyways, the last song was fuego.

27. The Perfect Wedding - Easily the most bizarre movie on this list. It’s so bad, I liked it a lot.

28. Naz and Maalik - The first half of the movie with the two leads just riffing is some pretty great stuff. The back half starts throwing plot developments that are just less than interesting.

29. My Best Friend

30. The Curiosity of Chance

31. Being 17 - Boring. Angsty.

32. And Then We Danced

33. Center of My World - Has some of the most trifling characters EVER. I was so angry. This movie for me has *0* rewatchability.

34. Just Friends

35. 4th Man Out - This movie was basically “a bro/Hangover-style movie, but for the gays.” I absolutely love the intention, but the execution was a little shoddy. One day we’re gonna get a flawless movie that nails what this movie was going for. I hope we remember this movie whenever that day comes.

36. Latter Days - So fucking preachy. 

37. GBF - Another bizarre one, but at least this movie gets how wacky it is.

38. Beach Rats

39. Shelter - I’ve noticed a lot of people like this one. To that I say...yikes. Remember that scene from Family Guy where Peter says he doesn’t care for The Godfather? I did not care for Shelter. It insists upon itself (not really, but still).

40. Handsome Devil

41. Esteros - It’s at this point of the list that we shift from “Movies that are the definition of ‘ight’ “ to “These movies are bad. Bad. BAAAAAD.”

42. Monster Pies

43. Were the World Mine - I couldn’t even finish it. Wanna watch a better musical? Go watch Kanarie. Wanna watch a better Shakespeare adaptation? The Lion King is the movie for you, or even fucking She’s the Man.

44. North Sea Texas - So boring. I actually think this one may need a rewatch, because I swear it shouldn’t have been as terrible as it was.

45. Salvation Army - I have no idea what this movie was going for. I understand that it is autobiographical, however...it simultaneously barely has any plot or character developments. This one has shades of Beach Rats, but it’s significantly worse, and I didn’t even like Beach Rats that much.

So that’s it, thanks if you made it down this far. I guess I’ll update the list as I inevitably watch more of these. I would love movie recommendations! 

[dustedmagazine]

Ian Mathers’ 2020: We’re stuck inside our own machines

I’ve had a song I loved in high school and haven’t thought much about since stuck in my head. The song “Apparitions” by the Matthew Good Band is a fine example of the alt rock of the late 90s; if you grew up then but somewhere down in the states (or elsewhere) instead of my southern Ontario you may well have your regional equivalents, and like this one they may not resonate terribly strongly outside of their time and place. It popped back into my head after a long time recently and of course 2020 has changed it a little. A song that as a teen I felt keenly as about loneliness (albeit also about how technology can feed into that) of course now plays on my nerves as another small piece of art about the way that most of us (those scared and/or responsible anyway) have only that relatively narrow, technologically mediated connection to the people we love. All of us, artists and listeners alike, are trying to fit our feelings and art and selves down these little connections, with some success.

On a personal level, 2020 wound up being stressful in ways we couldn’t have predicted even after the pandemic hit. In circumstances that could have seen governments on this continent support those unable to work (and those who shouldn’t have to), support those workers who are truly essential, support workers and renters and even landlords and small businesses, instead we got a near-total abeyance of those governments using the resources we provide them with to save any of us. On a personal level my wife and I were lucky enough to be able to work from home (not that it didn’t come with its own forms of stress, and now that I’m off until January I have several work/stress-related illnesses to recover from) but still saw friends and loved ones lose good, used-to-be-sustainable livings overnight, saw family businesses succumb to a near-total absence of effective government support after months of trying to keep above water, etc.

It is probably no surprise that this is not a situation conducive to listening to music, let alone writing about it; I have deliberately and happily kept busy on behind the scenes stuff at Dusted that I could still manage but looking, at the end of the year, at the amount I managed to actually create is demoralizing if not at all shocking. I’m not sure I think next year will be ‘better’ in many important ways, although at our job there is a growing feeling among coworkers that next year has to have some work/life balance because 2020 was, maybe more than anything else, unsustainable.

That’s not to say I didn’t spend a lot of time and emotion on music this year, and if nothing else constant sleep deprivation, stress, and panic meant I was probably open to being deeply moved by all sorts of art even more than normally (it’s gotten to the point where I can’t even read a sad or moving twitter thread out loud to my wife without getting teary, which is kind of… nice?). Funnily enough the band that did the most to keep me sane didn’t really put out anything in 2020. Personal favorite, Low, instead started, in early April, getting on Instagram with something they called on whim “It’s Friday I’m in Low.” With one brief break they have now done by my count at least 35 shows (catalogued here, by the way), every Friday at about 4 my time.

Admittedly it’s easier for Low to pull this off than some bands, since the 2/3 of the trio that sing are a married couple (they’ve had a couple of socially-distanced backyard shows with bassist Steve Garrington, but he’s mostly been isolating elsewhere). These shows have seen the band’s Alan Sparhawk take a mid-set break to do follow-up phone interviews with the acts featured in the COVID-curtailed touring bands series Vansplainingthat they started on YouTube, or just to give a tour round their vegetable garden and talk tips. It’s seen Alan and Mimi Parker draw on their impressive, 25+ year body of work (averaging 4-5 songs a set, I don’t think they’ve repeated themselves yet) and talk a bit between songs about pandemics, politics, song choices, and whether Alan should grab his bike helmet this time.

They’re not the only musicians out there speaking love and sanity (and playing music) into the strange digital interzone filled with hate and disinformation where we’ve all been forced to gather while locked down, but they were and the most consistent and steady signal being emitted each week. No matter how tired I was from work or what new symptoms I’d developed or what horrific thing I read into the news, even if I had to take an emergency nap while it was actually airing, every Friday the show was there. Once things do return to something more like normal, it’s one of the few things I’ll unambiguously miss about this weird-ass year.

So if that makes an argument for Low as my band of the year (admittedly again… it’s not like Double Negative has aged poorly, either), that does a disservice to those 2020 records I did connect with; even if there are still literally dozens I have to go through, many of which I expect to love, my top picks this year (if as unrankable by me as always) hit me as hard as any top pick in recent years did. So here I present a quick and informal top 5, which the rest of my top 20 following in alphabetical order. Here’s hoping for more time and space in 2021 for music, and even more than that, for more support for those who need it from those who could have been providing it all this time. (The Matthew Good Band, incidentally, always did best with their ballads. “Strange Days” is another I’ve had in my head these days; the image of moving “backwards, into a wall of fire” has stuck with me since the 90s and it’s never felt more grimly appropriate.)

Greet Death — New Hell

New Hell by Greet Death

This one is, in some sense, cheating; it came out November 2019. But that just means it’s the latest winner of my personal Torres Prize for Ian Being Late to the Party (so named because becoming slightly obsessed with Torres’ Sprinter just after I sent in my 2015 list was the first time I noticed that one of my favorite records of each year tends to get picked up by me just after I call it quits on the year, no matter how long I try to wait). This very doom and gloom slowcore/metal/(whatever, just know it’s heavy) trio at first felt very much like my beloved Cloakroom (whose Time Well has also won a Torres Prize) but sure enough nuances revealed themselves. Back in February it felt almost a little too negative, but then the rest of 2020 happened. And the extended burns of “You’re Gonna Hate What You’ve Done” and the title track remain searing.

Holy Fuck — Deleter

Probably the record I’ve been trying to write about the longest in 2020, and the one I’m most disappointed in myself that I just couldn’t get the requisite paragraphs together. It’s a wonderful effort from the consistently great Toronto resolutely human-created (and —mediated) dance music quartet, one that both feels like a summation of everything they do well, and with the addition of some outside voices (including strong turns from the singers of both Hot Chip and Liars) a step forward at the same time.

Spanish Love Songs — Brave Faces Everyone

Brave Faces Everyone by Spanish Love Songs

As the year got worse, this roar of defiance only got more crucial for me to hear every so often; I was a big enough fan of it, even after writing it up for Dusted, that when they solicited fan footage for a subsequent music video you may just be able to get a glimpse of me in it. (I’m the one in a “No Tories” t-shirt.) My punk rock-loving twin brother was the one who introduced me to Spanish Love Songs and we were supposed to spend an evening in June screaming along to them live in a packed, sweaty room. I need that in my life again.

Julianna Barwick — Healing Is a Miracle

Healing Is A Miracle by Julianna Barwick

It’s a sign of what 2020 has been like here that even just this album title leaves bruises, and while I privately worried Barwick would have a hard time following up 2016’s sublime Will (probably my favorite record that year), it seems that continuing to take whatever downtime she needs to keep focusing and refining her particular muse has once again yielded amazing results. Anyone who thinks they know what a Barwick track sounds like should really check out, say, “Flowers”, but much of this record absolutely sounds like Barwick, just even better than before. She also boasted my wife and I's favorite streaming concert of 2020, an absolutely gorgeous rendition of this album with Mary Lattimore showing up.

Phoebe Bridgers — Punisher

Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers

I joked on Twitter recently that I have far too nice a dad (and far too good a relationship with him) to be as obsessed as I am with Phoebe Bridgers’ “Kyoto”, but here we are. Like most of her generation, Bridgers’ social media presence ranges from shit-posting to inscrutable, but even though things are often just as hard to figure out in her beautiful songs (as they often are in life), there’s an emotional clarity to them that can just grab you deep down. Couple that with seriously impressive songcraft and the progress from her already astounding debut Stranger in the Alps and more than anyone else in 2020 I’m excited to see just where the hell Phoebe Bridgers is going to go, because it feels like she’s talented and hardworking enough to go just about anywhere and drag a lot of our hearts with her.

Other Favorites

Aidan Baker & Gareth Davis — Invisible Cities II

Anastasia Minster — Father

Deftones — Ohms

Hum — Inlet

Kelly Lee Owens — Inner Song

Mesarthim — The Degenerate Era

Perfume Genius — Set My Heart On Fire Immediately

Protomartyr — Ultimate Success Today

Rachel Kiel — Dream Logic

The Ridiculous Trio — The Ridiculous Trio Plays the Stooges

Sam Amidon — Sam Amidon

Shabason, Krgovich & Harris — Philadelphia

Stars Like Fleas — DWARS Session: Live on Radio VPRO

Well Yells — We Mirror the Dead

Yves Tumour — Heaven to a Tortured Mind

Five Reissues/Compilations/etc.

Aix Em Klemm — Aix Em Klemm

Bardo Pond — Adrop/Circuit VIII

Charles Curtis — Performances & Recordings 1998-2018

Coil — Musick to Play in the Dark

Hot Chip — LateNightTales

Ian Mathers

[chaotic-lion]

Hi, this is Seagull-Scribbles 👋 first I just want to thank you for your nice comment, I’ve screenshot it for when I’m sad aha

I just wanted to say, I still feel I’m learning how to draw so I can’t really offer any advice- but I only started digital art last may (it’ll be a year next week today actually), and if you look on my art accounts archive, you can see my early work and the quality is very poor XD I try to do a drawing once a day, but since I’m 24 doing one a week is sometimes the best I can do! Anyway that practice really has made a huge difference in such a short time, and if you feel you want to improve your own art I’m sure you can get to a place you are happy with too :) Wanting to improve or change opens you up to experimenting new styles or techniques and trying new things, and looking at others art can give you inspiration or ideas to help with your own! I’m really glad you have given me such nice feedback, but I truly believe if you keep at it you’ll be able to surpass me and get to a place your happy with <3 it is also important to remember, all art is made with love or a strong feeling you have towards what your drawing and no matter what stage you are on you should always feel proud of what you create x

Ohmygosh, thank you so much for all this advice!! This made me smile so much aaaa. This makes me feel so inspired to continue getting better and developing my style and I appreciate you so much!!! It means the world to me! I’ll definitely keep working hard and having fun with my art and I’ll remember your words anytime I feel doubt in myself and my work. :) Thank you so very much and I’m so happy to know I made you feel happy too with my comment <3 I hope you have an amazing whatever-time-of-day-it-is-for-you!

[ranma-rewatch]

Episode 20: You Really Do Hate Cats!

(CONTENT WARNING: This blog post contains discussion of phobias, child abuse, and people doing the worst thing to intensify those problems. Those things are in the show, I didn’t just bring them up out of nowhere.)

Well, it’s that time again. Time to grab a balloon and tell my friends what I think of an episode of Ranma 1/2. We’re starting the first arc of season two with this episode, though oddly enough I feel like I mostly remember what stuff is going to happen in it. But maybe I don’t remember right? I’d love it if that is the case. Though...speaking of that...there is a certain character I have dreaded appearing in this series, and I’d hoped he wouldn’t appear for a while, but I checked and he appears this season. I...I thought I had more time. Oh well, let’s do this episode and I’ll worry about him when he gets here.

Okay, well, for the most part, this episode is actually a lot better than I remember it being. As it turns out, some of the details mutated in my head in the decade since I last saw it, and I actually thought things were worse than they were.

The episode starts in the Kuno manor, where our favorite swordsman is practicing to once again fight Ranma Saotome. But he’s not alone, because for the first time we meet Kuno’s henchman, Sasuke. He’s a ninja, and he’ll do whatever Kuno tells him to do, but he probably won’t do it very well.

From there, we see Ranma’s dad is training him in stupid ways again, and they get back to the house to find Shampoo has mailed Ranma something from China: a pink cat. That’s a problem, because Ranma has a severe cat phobia. It’s not random, either, Genma directly created it. See, when Ranma was 6, Genma thought he should teach his son Cat Fu, which he heard about from an ancient martial arts manuscript. The way to teach it is to cover the disciple in fish sausage and through them into a room with starving cats.

Obviously, that just ended up traumatizing Ranma, and the very next page of the book would have told Genma that training someone that way is very stupid. Kasumi, drawing on the common misunderstandings people have about exposure therapy, thinks that just inviting a ton of cats to be around will help, but of course it doesn’t, it makes Ranma even more distressed. Sasuke is hiding under the floorboards though, and he runs off to tell Kuno about Ranma’s weakness.

At first, Kuno says something about how he could never cowardly use an opponent’s weakness to unfairly win, but then he still makes Sasuke tell him about it, because he can still use it to win in an honorable way. The plan they go for is pretty ridiculous: they leave a note in Ranma’s locker that Akane’s been kidnapped, and he has to go to the gym to save her. But Akane is standing next to Ranma as he reads the note, so he knows that’s not true.

He goes anyway out of curiosity, only to find Sasuke there dressed up as Akane. With the wrong color wig. Even though the trap keeps failing, Ranma walks into it anyway because he has nothing better to do, until he realizes what is going on: cats. But Ranma manages to fight the fear and pretend he’s okay, hoping to just take Akane out of there, but then it becomes clear Sasuke took the extra step of also bringing an enormous tiger.

That’s when we cut back to Genma and Kasumi, and the old man explains that he tried curing Ranma of his phobia, but his way of doing so was to just keep throwing him at hungry cats, only changing the type of food attached to his body. All of it just made the problem worse, but it also actually led to Ranma developing Cat Fu. When Ranma gets scared enough, his mind just let’s go and he mentally becomes a cat.

That happens in the basement of the school, making it easy for him to beat the tiger and escape, just in time to kick Kuno’s butt without even trying. But he doesn’t stop there, and starts running around the school still acting like a cat. Akane follows him just as the dads show up. Genma says the only way to break Ranma out of it when he was a kid was with the help of a kindly old lady, but she’s dead. So, Genma tries dressing up and doing it himself. That fails, so they try catnip, forgetting that Ranma just thinks he’s a cat, so the stuff doesn’t really affect him.

The situation does kind of solve itself, as Ranma doesn’t attack Akane, as she’s afraid of, but instead curls up in her lap to purr. The whole school is watching, so that’s embarrassing for her, but then he kisses her and she freezes for a second before throwing Ranma into the school pool. Oh, and the pink cat is watching and didn’t like that. The curse activating returns his brain to normal, and Ranma has no clue why he was thrown in a pool. Akane walks home, cursing Ranma for doing that, but sounding conflicted.

So, the big thing I misremembered about this episode was I thought Genma did all the cat stuff with 0 thoughts about how it would affect Ranma and not giving a crap how it affected his son. That is actually not the case, he’s clearly really torn up about the phobia, though he still says some bad stuff about Ranma being ‘unmanly’ for having a phobia. He even tried to cure Ranma, a few times. It’s just that, well, his actions still traumatized Ranma. Sufficient ignorance is indistinguishable from malice, as they say. Genma is still, on the whole, abusive to Ranma in my opinion, but he’s not as bad as he could have been, I have to admit.

This was also just a funny episode. The comedy largely worked, even if some of the jokes didn’t quite land. Kuno and Sasuke were especially good, and I found Ranma fighting his fear both humorous and kind of inspiring. The man has a hell of a willpower. Not going to lie, the Cat-Ranma just immediately going for Akane’s lap and then kissing her was cute, I really liked that. Of course, I’m a sucker for anything with them, so I’m an easy mark there.

It’s also interesting how this works as the first part of a large arc, because if you didn’t know that was the case I can imagine thinking this was just a standalone episode. The pink cat was the impetus for the plot, but it’s what will drive the coming episodes forward.

One thing I found annoying was how different the dub and sub were this time around, in terms of script. The dub had a lot more bashing of Ranma for being scared of cats, including from Akane. That isn’t in the subtitled version at all, and I thought the episode worked a lot better there. I’m always a fan of taking liberties with a localization in order to make the story work better in the new country, but I don’t think we needed Akane insulting Ranma for his trauma.

Hey, a Character Spotlight again! Haven’t had one of these in a bit, and this one is for Sasuke Sarugakure. Let’s start with his voice actors. In the English dub, he’s voiced by Robert O. Smith. Does that name sound familiar? It should, I talked about him recently, since he’s the one who voiced Genma Saotome in the dub as well. His voice for Sasuke is extremely comedic, going for an over-the-top pathetic voice. He makes Sasuke just sound like comic relief, which he is. What’s interesting is what the other actor does with him.

In Japanese, he’s played by Shigeru Chiba, another voice actor from this show in Japan who is just known for a billion things. Standouts include Buggy the Clown in One Piece, Emperor Pilaf and Raditz in the Dragon Ball franchise, and dubbing over John de Lancie as Discord in the Japanese dub of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. I was completely shocked to hear him play Sasuke with more gravitas, using a very serious voice that one would expect from a ninja, which clashed perfectly with the situations and his character design to make the comedy far better than in the dub. One of those rare times I’m actually preferring the Japanese version!

As a character, Sasuke is interesting because he’s not in the manga at all. For reasons none seem to know, the creative team for the anime decided to delay introducing minor character Hikaru Gosenkugi, and replaced him with Sasuke. We’ll get to Hikaru when he appears, but I don’t really mind Sasuke’s addition to the show. Giving Kuno a henchman just makes his dynamic even better, and there’s something I just really like to Sasuke’s almost naive way of trying to plot and scheme. I don’t actually have any deep analysis, at least not as of yet, just wanted to give him a moment in the Spotlight for being something interesting.

I didn’t expect to like this episode so much! It wasn’t great, there were parts I didn’t care for, but on the whole I’m happy to see my expectations overcome. I’m putting this episode in the middle of the pack, at the #10 slot. It was fun, but it has a lot of better episodes when it comes to making me smile. (Or cry.)

Episode 7: Enter Ryoga, the Eternal ‘Lost Boy’  

Episode 12: A Woman's Love is War! The Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics Challenge!

Episode 15: Enter Shampoo, the Gung-Ho Girl! I Put My Life in Your Hands

Episode 9: True Confessions! A Girl's Hair is Her Life!

Episode 2: School is No Place for Horsing Around

Episode 19: Clash of the Delivery Girls! The Martial Arts Takeout Race

Episode 6: Akane's Lost Love... These Things Happen, You Know

Episode 13: A Tear in a Girl-Delinquent's Eye? The End of the Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics Challenge!

Episode 17: I Love You, Ranma! Please Don’t Say Goodbye

Episode 20: You Really Do Hate Cats!

Episode 16: Shampoo's Revenge! The Shiatsu Technique That Steals Heart and Soul

Episode 8: School is a Battlefield! Ranma vs. Ryoga

Episode 11: Ranma Meets Love Head-On! Enter the Delinquent Juvenile Gymnast!

Episode 4: Ranma and...Ranma? If It’s Not One Thing, It’s Another

Episode 5: Love Me to the Bone! The Compound Fracture of Akane's Heart

Episode 1: Here’s Ranma

Episode 3: A Sudden Storm of Love

Episode 10: P-P-P-Chan! He's Good For Nothin'

Episode 14: Pelvic Fortune-Telling? Ranma is the No. One Bride in Japan

Episode 18: I Am a Man! Ranma's Going Back to China!?

Next time we’ll continue this tale with "This Ol' Gal's the Leader of the Amazon Tribe!" which, as you might guess from the title, will introduce a new character. This one’s actually from the manga! See you then, y’all.