#thus you and your art in itself are what's wrong here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cuubism · 5 months

Text

work is driving me fucking insane this week, so here's this silly self-indulgent thing i wrote to distract myself.

the spirit of this post is here as well XD

coffee shop au, meet cute, literally falling for your crush

In retrospect, forgetting to eat for three meals in a row wasn't Dream's best move. Not that he'd done it on purpose. Hence the forgetting. But taking time to cook always felt so wasteful when he was finally making progress on his novel. He could eat later, whenever the hyperfocus burned itself out.

The only thing that eventually got him out of the house was caffeine. He'd run out of both coffee and tea in the dysfunction of this week, and thus was forced to venture out to the cafe a few blocks away from his flat in search of enough energy to keep him awake for a few more hours.

Technically, there was a place that was closer. There was also a grocery store, where he could have bought coffee grounds. But Dream took the excuse to go a bit further, and not for the quality of the coffee.

He and Johanna, on the occasion she could convince Dream to leave the house and attempt to be part of society, had first started coming to this particular coffee shop because Johanna's girlfriend Rachel worked there. But Dream had to admit that what really kept him coming back, including at times when he wasn't being dragged along by Johanna, was another employee entirely.

Hob.

Hob was, in Rachel's words, "a perfectly nice guy but I don't know why you're so obsessed with him." In Johanna's words, Hob was, "quite fit, I can't lie, but I really thought you'd have gone for someone who's a bit more of an arts gremlin like you."

In Dream's words, Hob was perfect. He always had a smile for Dream, and a kind word or compliment, and he had kind eyes, and nice hands, and was terribly handsome. Dream had never been particularly attracted to masculinity before but Hob was proving him wrong over and over. He looked like he was strong enough to pick Dream up, and that did all sorts of exciting things to Dream's insides. Dream may or may not have had an actual dream about Hob holding his hand.

Hob also made terrible coffee. But Dream didn't care. He took whatever coffee Hob made him, whether the grounds were burnt, or it had way too much cream, or was vastly overbrewed, and drank it quite happily, sneaking looks at Hob all the while. Because Hob's coffee might be awful, but he always smiled at Dream as he gave it to him, and sometimes their hands brushed and it sent a thrilling little shock up Dream's arms. And anything Hob made for him felt made with love, he could tell, it was like a homemade birthday cake with uneven frosting and an undercooked part in the middle.

It was possible Dream should care more about the quality of the coffee and less about the symbolism of it.

In any case, he went to the coffee shop, underfed and undercaffeinated, hoping that Hob would be there, even if it meant he would have to down another cup of extremely bad coffee. Hob should be there, he did usually work Tuesday afternoons, not that Dream had memorized his schedule like a stalker or anything.

He stepped inside, the little bell over the door jingling, and found that he was right, Hob was there. A thrill of delight ran through him. Dream did not often feel anything as carefree or joyous as delight, but he was very sleep-deprived, and Hob was there, so there it was. Rachel was also working, and waved to him as he stepped up to the counter. As she and Johanna were both very aware of his embarrassing crush on Hob--much to Dream's chagrin--she didn't come over to take his order, instead leaving him to Hob.

"Hey, it's Dream, right?" said Hob, wiping off his hands on a towel and leaning on the counter, looking at Dream with a smile. He knows my name, Dream thought with a heady rush, then remembered that Hob was obligated to write it on his coffee cup, and that Dream came here often, and it didn't have to mean anything. "Dark roast with almond milk and caramel?"

How Hob could be so diligent about remembering his order and so terrible at making it, Dream didn't know. "That's correct," he said.

Behind Hob, Rachel mouthed keep going, which Dream took to mean that if he wanted to get anywhere he had to attempt to engage Hob in slightly more conversation than his usual coffee-ordering script. This was unfortunately true, particularly since Hob had already nullified half the sentences Dream would usually say by predicting his order.

"You remembered my order," he said, which felt like a reasonably normal response, definitely better than do you want to see if you can pick me up? which would probably be creepy. Rachel gave him a thumbs up.

"Of course. You're quite memorable," said Hob, and winked at him. Was he flirting? Dream would like to think so, but he wasn't usually very good at picking up on that sort of thing. Why would Hob be interested in him anyway? Perhaps he meant that Dream was memorable in a bad way, that he was annoying or weird, or--

Dream still hadn't responded.

"I am not trying to be," he said, and behind Hob, Rachel sighed. It was true, though. In most areas of life Dream preferred to go unnoticed. It was only Hob's attention that made him feel all bubbly inside.

"Task failed successfully," said Hob, "because I can't stop noticing you."

Was Dream... still succeeding at the conversation? That was truly unexpected, that he hadn't already turned Hob off by being utterly unsuitable for human society.

"Is that a good thing?" Dream asked.

"Is it?" asked Hob.

Undoubtedly it was. Dream liked the thought of Hob noticing him. He liked the thought of Hob remembering his name, and his coffee order, and when he came into the cafe, with as much detail as Dream had memorized his schedule. He did not normally like having people's eyes on him but he liked the thought of Hob looking. Of Hob caring about what he saw. It made him feel interesting and worthy, and sort of giddy and lightheaded--

Oh. No. That wasn't Hob's attention. That was the fact that the last meal he'd eaten had been a sleeve of biscuits for breakfast two days ago, and that he'd been on his feet for a long time, or what constituted a long time when one had only had a sleeve of biscuits two days ago to eat. And he hadn't slept, and he'd had quite an exciting few minutes just now, and apparently this all meant that his body had decided it needed to check out for a moment, thanks, goodbye.

Inconvenient timing, Dream thought, as everything went sort of spinny and blurry. He was making such progress! He really thought Hob might even like him, and falling on the ground was not going to help his case.

Inevitable now, though. The last thing he saw before he passed out was Hob's face, expression shifting from amusement to concern, and really, there were worse ways to go out.

He woke up not much later, or at least it felt like little time had passed, to find himself lying down on a couch in what seemed to be the cafe's back office, as best as his overtaxed mind could gather. And Hob was crouched beside him, looking at him worriedly, Rachel leaning over his shoulder, face likewise creased in concern.

Dream wondered how he had gotten to the couch. Had Hob carried him there? It was a pleasant thought, though he wished he could have experienced it in person.

"You know," said Hob, "there are easier ways to get out of talking to me than blacking out." The words were light, but he sounded genuinely stressed out about it.

Dream immediately felt bad. "I'm sorry."

Hob chucked him on the cheek, a light touch that felt fond. "Not what I meant. Are you okay?"

Dream carefully pushed himself up to sitting, Hob watching all the while, hands hovering over him but not touching. Dream sat up. His head didn't spin. "I am okay," he said.

"Probably didn't eat anything today, huh?" said Rachel. She didn't look quite as concerned as Hob did, she was used to Dream's habits. Meanwhile, for all Hob knew, Dream had a brain tumor and would imminently die.

"No," Dream admitted. "I was... occupied."

"Will you be okay here for a sec?" Hob asked, brow scrunching as if he truly thought Dream might just collapse again onto the floor without him. "I'll get you some water. Something to eat, too."

It was worth fainting in a public place, Dream thought, just to have Hob look at him with such care.

When Dream nodded, Hob hurried away to do just that.

Only now his crush was going to be one million times worse, and certainly not reciprocated, not after the scene he'd caused.

Beside him, Rachel was laughing, hiding it behind her hand.

"Is my suffering humorous to you?" Dream asked, but there was no heat in it, he was too busy looking after where Hob had disappeared.

"You should have seen it," she said. "He launched himself over the counter to catch you. Oh my god, I wish you could have witnessed it."

"Surely Hob would aid any customer in distress," Dream sniffed. But something turned over in his stomach, a little flutter of hope.

"Yeah but not literally vault the counter. It was terrific. I was worried he'd break a hip."

"I'm not that old," said Hob, coming back around the corner and crouching beside Dream again, water bottle and what looked like a chocolate muffin clasped in his hands.

Rachel was unrepentant. "You're lucky you didn't wind up on the floor, too."

"You caught me," said Dream, staring into Hob's eyes. He had such pretty eyes. Rich brown, like coffee with a dash of cream.

Dream might still be a bit lightheaded.

"Of course," said Hob, and uncapped the water, handing it to him. Dream took slow sips, realizing as he did that he hadn't drank any water all day. "I'm fond of you, you know. Can't let you hit your head on the floor."

Fond. Dream might faint again.

"Should I take you to hospital or something?" Hob asked, still so concerned it was making that floaty feeling bubble up again in Dream's chest.

"I will be fine here," he said.

"He just fell for you, that's all," said Rachel, and Dream glared at her. She just smiled back. "Swooned and everything."

"I did not swoon," Dream protested.

"You kind of did, actually," said Hob. "I've never seen someone just crumple so dramatically."

"Oh, have you seen many people faint, then?"

"No, but--"

"I'm going to man the till," said Rachel, patting Dream on the arm. "I don't think I want to be in the middle of this. Let me know if you want me to take you home, Dream." She winked at him. "Unless you'd rather Hob do it."

Johanna was never this meddlesome, Dream thought bitterly. She just made fun of him and left it at that.

Then he was alone with Hob, which was both an exciting and anxiety-inducing state of affairs. He clutched his water bottle for balance.

"Um. I got you this," said Hob, and handed him the muffin. "Made them this morning."

Dream was really quite hungry, so despite Hob's poor coffee record, he took a bite of the muffin.

And this was how he learned that Hob was utterly lacking in coffee-making skills because all his talent was in baking.

The chocolate was so rich, it tasted more like cake than a muffin. the chocolate chips melted on his tongue, and he had to force himself not to just immediately take another huge bite. He really was so hungry. Perhaps, now that he knew he could get such things here, he would have a reason to visit the cafe other than just Hob -- and a reason to eat breakfast, too.

"Good?" said Hob, and Dream nodded, licking the melted chocolate from his lips, and he didn't fail to notice Hob watching the movement of his tongue. Perhaps Johanna and Rachel were right, and it wasn't hopeless, even if Dream's best attempt at flirting back was collapsing onto the floor.

He did not know what possessed him then. Perhaps it was the chocolate. Perhaps it was the worry still lingering in Hob's warm eyes, or maybe he had just hit his head and forgotten about it. Either way, he leaned forward in his seat, and kissed Hob on the lips.

His lips were so soft. Just as Dream had dreamt they would be. Hob made a sound of surprise against Dream's mouth, and caught him by the arms so he wouldn't fall out of his chair. Which was a definite possibility, though now the lightheadedness was not caused by a calorie deficit but rather because he was kissing Hob.

Hob who was kissing him back, too. Softening against his mouth, licking the remaining chocolate from Dream's lips. Would Hob hug him, too? If he had already caught him? Dream had fantasized so much about being hugged by Hob.

Only one way to find out. He leaned into Hob's arms, and Hob caught him again, wrapping his arms around Dream's back. He was so warm, and strong. He was wonderful.

"It is a good thing," he said into Hob's shoulder.

"What is?"

"You noticing me."

Hob chuckled. The sound rumbled through Dream's chest. "It's not hard to do. I've been eyeing you for a while, you know. I always hoped you'd talk to me more."

"I am not very good at talking more," said Dream.

"I think I've got that now." Hob pulled back to look at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. "Falling over is more your style."

"I only faint on occasion," Dream protested, which only seemed to amuse Hob more.

"Well. If talking is a bit tough, maybe we can go for a walk sometime?" He tucked a strand of Dream's hair behind his ear, and Dream shivered. Hob clocked it, too, and let his hand rest on the back of Dream's head, fingers curled in his hair as his gaze flicked to Dream's lips and back up. "Or. Something else?"

Dream thought something else might make him spontaneously combust. That might have to wait a bit, at least until he could cope with Hob looking at him like that without feeling like he was about to explode in a flurry of butterflies.

"A walk, if you will hold my hand," he said, and Hob smiled, and took his hand, and Dream learned that all dreams really could come true at once.

#this is SO silly #hob is literally the most average guy and dream is salivating with lust and completely ferally obsessed with him #it's mutual tho dream is literally a gremlin and hob is like 😍 wow he's beautiful he's like an angel #and then they lived happily ever after #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #sex scene between these two would be funny as fuck i think hob would touch dream once and he would come instantly and maybe also faint

512 notes · View notes

fossilprep · 6 months

Text

There's a lot this article touches on, but the parts about fossil preparation are kind of in poor taste. I'll go over some of it under the cut.

There's a reason we usually don't publish on things we prepare. They say it right here - we can literally, whether purposeful or accidental, modify fossils as we see fit. We could imitate pathologies or create marks with air scribes or picks that are misinterpreted as pathologies, remove or obscure parts of a fossil that may be diagnostic, etc. (Of course we don't endear to do these things, they're just possible).

Whether through inexperience or poor dexterity some budding preparators can cause damage that only someone with a trained eye could notice. Preparators aren't always required to be trained in the sciences or have thorough anatomical knowledge, and thus can reconstruct things wrong, without scientific guidance. Like filling holes where there's supposed to be… holes! Like a fenestrum or foramen, for example. This is why we have references, but more importantly, we do the minimum unless instructed to do otherwise by a supervisor or exhibits team - one of a few scenarios where a curator can rightfully step in.

This is why we're trained to preserve almost any bone we see. Often there are small isolated bone chunks hovering in matrix that are thrown in a box with the specimen. A lot of pieces can't be reattached because they're too weathered or of indeterminate origins (“IBF’s” for short).

"Creating" something "artistic" is another way of implying we're making it up as we go.

If someone hands me a fossil and tells me to look at this "multimedia sculpture", I'd be confused. It's a fossil, not an art project.

Academic fossil preparation is fundamentally a scientific endeavor that also requires artistic abilities, but not creativity. We use various methods that are tried and true (and sometimes experiment with new ones) to expose an element from matrix.

The act of preparing a fossil is not providing new data. The fossil itself is the data. We just make it available. That being said, if we provide measurements, take and analyze samples of the matrix for various analyses, then that's providing valuable data. Would that warrant an authorship? Maybe.

This raises another question though. If anyone who worked on a fossil gets an authorship, then can authorship compound?

The person who found the fossil but didn't do anything with it afterwards - just dug it up and sent it to the lab, for example. Do they get to be an author? On our field crews we have up to 30 people over the whole season. 30 coauthors and 99% of them are not scientists.

The collections manager who just painted a number on it, catalogued it, and put it away?

How about the curator who allowed a researcher access to the collection who didn't collect any data but just answered some emails and opened the drawer for it to be studied?

The land owner who gave you permission to dig?

Finally, the preparator who just exposed it from the rock. They do more science inherently than the others, but if no parts of the scientific method were conducted and no data was produced (save for the fossil simply being brought back into the world), do they get an authorship?

tl;dr We don't need authorships for the act of preparing fossils unless we provide data and go through the scientific process (like what's usually required for any authorship). Many parts of the process is not science. Just acknowledge our work in your paper and we'll be more than happy.

#fossil preparator #fossil preparation #science #paleontology #palaeontology #paleoblr #palaeoblr #fossil prep #fossils #dinosaurs #fossil

197 notes · View notes

miamochi-writes · 1 year

Note

hihi! can you write vash being with an artist and them needing to finish a commission since they're running low on money and ends up pulling multiple all-nighters, not really taking care of themselves and vash like forces them to take a break? (college is killing me rn :,)) thanks !!

A/n: Ooo I can sort of relate to this, just mainly the all-nighters :’) Also hope you don't mind Vash giving the reader some much needed TLC ❤️Enjoy!

A Break from Perfectionism

“Ugh, why does the chin look weird?”

“Now the eyes aren’t leveled,”

“Hands are the worst to draw!"

"Why do they still look wonky? They shouldn't look like this!"

You kept muttering to yourself as you tried to sketch on your drawing pad. You were limited on supplies, so this drawing had to be perfect. You already used up most of your supplies at the last town with your previous commissions. You already spent most of your double dollars to restock on the set of charcoal sticks and sketch paper you used. Just like clothes, art supplies were expensive to buy in No Man's Land.

However, you managed to get one commission that would cover all your future expenses. One of the townsfolk noticed your portfolio and wanted a portrait of themselves. When they told you how much they were willing to pay, you nearly passed out from the amount of double dollars they held out in front of you. Of course, you couldn't say no to this commission and promised to work on it immediately. Usually, you would have finished this commission quickly since it was your only one. The only problem is, your perfectionism was getting in the way of making any progress. You needed this commission to be perfect. One second it would look great at a glance, but after five seconds, you would find a flaw upon closer inspection. Thus, you would fix the mistake with some erasing, sketching, or shading until you were satisfied. This process would repeat itself until you lost track of time. You were currently working on the face until you heard someone come inside your room.

“Y/n, you there?” A familiar voice asked. You didn’t need to look up. You recognized that voice from a mile away. You couldn’t afford to look away from your sketch as you were shading in the shadows of the person you drew.

“Yeah I’m here, what’s up Vash?” You asked as you started finishing up the last shade of the cheek. It wasn’t good, nor terrible, but it would do for now. After all, you were going to fix it again for the umpteenth time.

“I’m just checking in on you. How's it going with the artwork?” Vash asked as you could hear him walk closer to you. When Vash first asked about seeing your drawings, you were such a nervous wreck about him seeing your work. Now, you've grown used to him seeing your portfolio after you started dating each other. He was your muse whenever you had an art block. The way Vash expressed himself and his little mannerisms were perfect for you to draw.

"Wow, that looks amazing Y/n! This is probably your best one yet!" Vash complimented as you sighed.

"Thanks, I wish I could see this the way you do. It's not nearly finished. There are so many things wrong with this piece that I need to fix. The shading is all wrong on this part, and the face looks wonky at certain angles," you whined as you looked at the sketch again and started zoning in on all the flaws. The more you looked at the piece, the more you felt the urge to crumple up the paper and start over.

"Hey, don't be so harsh on yourself. You're a great artist, and everyone knows it. Why don't we take a break from this and work on it later?" he suggested, putting his hands on your tense shoulders.

"Vash I can't! I have to keep working on this. I need to finish this soon. I promised this person I would have it ready before we leave in a few days!" you argued.

"Y/n, you need a break. This isn't healthy for you. Besides, when was the last time you took a break? Did you even eat?" Vash persisted as you thought about how to answer those questions without worrying him.

"Uhhh...I took a mini break when Meryl checked in on me sometime ago. And I had a snack not too long ago," you answered vaguely. Before any of you could answer, your stomach growled loud enough for five seconds. Long and loud enough for Vash to hear. You immediately turned red at that moment, cursing your stomach and its terrible timing.

"Y/n, when exactly did you last eat something filling?" Vash asked. When you looked at him, you saw his glasses were glinting at you. This was not a good sign, as you knew he was dead serious if you couldn't see his pretty blue eyes anymore.

"When we all ate together?" you answered quietly. You then felt two strong hands on your waist. Next thing you knew, your feet were no longer touching the ground. Vash was carrying you over his shoulder with his prosthetic hand. It was at this moment, you knew there was no escaping your boyfriend if he had you in his prosthetic grip. You knew how strong he was with that arm in particular as he adjusted his grip on you.

"Vash please! I promise to take a break and eat later! Just please put me down!" you begged.

"Y/n, I can't believe you haven't eaten a proper meal in days! You're not leaving my sight until you eat and rest," Vash argued as you whined in defeat. Vash took you out from your room as you were covering your face in shame. You felt embarrassed being carried like this, and it didn't help people were going to see you and Vash like this.

"Wolfwood, make sure Y/n doesn't go in this room unless I say so. We'll be back later," Vash requested. You then saw Wolfwood waiting outside your room and placed his weapon in front of your room. He told Vash he'd watch over the place as you were in complete shock. Now there was no way you could sneak back into your room and continue working.

~*~

Vash brought you down to the hotel's dining room. You were a blushing mess when you saw a couple of people lounging there. It wasn't every day that Vash carried you over his shoulder, let alone in a public space where people could see. He finally set you down at a table for two where Meryl and Roberto sat. They then left once they saw Vash as the both of you took a seat. You could see two plates of freshly cooked Thomas meat in front of the two of you.

"Vash, is this for me?" you asked as he nodded.

"How? This must have cost a good chunk of our funds!" you added, feeling bad just looking at this meal.

"Y/n, you deserve to eat a warm meal. Plus, I don't mind spending money on you if it means sharing a meal with you like this. I haven't seen you in days since you started working on that piece," Vash explained. Oh how a wave of shame washed over you. You didn't realize how much time and energy you spent working on this commission. When you thought back to how Vash checked in on you earlier, you didn't even bother to look at him.

"I'm sorry Vash, I didn't mean to ignore you like that. I got so invested in working, I didn't realize how much time passed. I'll make it up to you somehow," you apologized.

"No I understand, just promise me to take breaks every now and then okay?" he replied with those sweet blue eyes that held so much love and kindness for you every day. You nodded your head and began to dig into your meal. The meat was succulent and tender with each bite you took. Your mouth was overwhelmed with flavor as your stomach was finally getting fed actual food.

"Vash this is so good! Thank you for getting this," you chimed as Vash smiled at how content you were.

"I'm glad you like it! Eat as much as you can, you need all the energy you can get for later," he replied before taking a bite of his meal. You didn't realize how hungry you were until you finished everything on your plate. Even Vash managed to wipe his plate clean as there were no scraps left behind. Once you were finished, Vash led you to his room while holding your hand with his warm cybernetic arm. Once you entered, he locked the room and led you to his bed.

"Y/n, when was the last time you slept? Be honest," Vash asked. Guilt-ridden, you averted your e/c eyes from your boyfriend. You already knew you didn't get a wink of sleep when you saw your dark circles in the reflection of your silverware earlier. Vash exhaled as he knew more or less the answer to his question. He then pulled you over to him as he held you close. Vash then caressed your cheek as his blue eyes locked on to yours. His eyebrows were furrowed with a small frown apparent on his beautiful face.

"Please take better care of yourself next time. I know I'm not great at taking care of myself, but I don't want you catching my habits too," Vash spoke. Your heart sunk as you rested your hand on his right cheek.

"I'm so sorry Vash, I will. The last thing I want to do was worry you. But you better take care of yourself too. We both can't be neglecting ourselves or each other. Promise me we'll both take better care of ourselves and each other?" you offered as Vash nodded with a smile growing on his face. His eyes gleamed as they crinkled from his smile that you loved ever so much.

You then kissed Vash gently on the lips as he pulled you closer to him. He rubbed small circles on your back as you melted into the kiss. Once you pulled away for air, Vash stared at you in such adoration as he slowly brushed his thumb on your cheek.

"I missed you so much Mayfly," he said as he laid down and pulled you with him. You loved it when he called you by your nickname. That name never failed to warm your heart as you showered Vash with butterfly kisses.

"Aw I missed you too my angel. I wished I was commissioned to draw you instead. I love to draw your beautiful face any chance I get," you cooed. Afterwards, Vash's cheeks were turning slightly pink as he wore a shy smile on his face before covering his face with both hands. He was a blubbering red mess the first time he heard you call him that. When you explained why you called him that, Vash nearly passed out from the overwhelming love and compliments you showered him with. When you first met him, you mistook him for an angel, because there was no way a human could look that pretty 24/7. When he saw your portraits of him in your sketchbook, he was in awe of how you drew him. How you perceived him in all your work was how Vash wanted to see himself in the mirror. Whether it was him smiling, laughing, or gazing, you always drew Vash in all his beauty. Plus, you always left little comments about how ethereal he was in your work that he practically melted. That nickname always turned Vash into absolute putty in your hands.

Vash then snuck a peak at you with his beautiful eyes as you chuckled at how childlike he was. He then grabbed your wrists and started massaging them slowly. All the pain building up from all the late night sketches and awkward positioning of your wrists was finally alleviated.

"How's that Mayfly?" he asked as he continued massaging you from your wrists to your hands and lastly to your fingers. Every little rub and massage he did brought so much relief to you. Your muscles and joints were slowly relaxing with each touch. You had no idea you were so tense earlier. If it wasn't for Vash, you probably would have gotten carpal tunnel syndrome much earlier. Once Vash finished, he planted kisses on both hands.

"How did you know?" you asked him.

"You were stiff when I first saw you today. Plus, your movements were rigid when we were eating earlier. Did my massage help?" he asked as you kissed him once more.

"More than you know," you replied as Vash brought you to his chest and kissed your lips and cheeks.

"Good, you deserve it after working so hard," Vash added. He then caressed the back of your head. He then slowly and gently ran his fingers through your hair. Furthermore, he rested his other arm on your back as you rested your head on top of his right chest. You loved hearing his heartbeat as it always calmed you down.

"Can we stay like this for awhile Angel?" you asked him.

"As long as you want Mayfly," he answered.

"Good, I think I'll take a quick nap on you if you don't mind," you added.

"Go ahead. I'll be right here. Sweet dreams my Mayfly," Vash wished as he planted one soft kiss on your head. Your eyes slowly got heavy as you drifted off to the sweet bliss of sleep. Once Vash made sure you were asleep, he slowly rested both his arms on top of your back and stared fondly at you. Oh how he missed having you in his arms these past few days. Vash loved and adored you every second. He knew how much this commission was stressing you out when he realized how important it was to you. Vash isn't the type to bother you while you work, but after not seeing you for days, he mustered up all the courage he had to knock on your door. The blonde was touch starved for days and missed seeing his favorite person. After all, you were his safe haven in this cruel world.

~*~

You woke up to see the sun setting. You looked to see Vash sleeping next to you as he held you by the waist. The minute you moved, Vash slowly stirred since he was such a light sleeper. Then those beautiful eyes slowly blinked at you as a smile crept on his lips.

"Sleep well?" he asked as you nodded.

"Good," he replied as he pecked your lips. Vash looked at the window and realized the time. He then walked you back to your room and allowed you to go back to work. Except, you would have to sleep with him later tonight, which you happily obliged. Wolfwood moved his weapon away as you walked inside. Once you settled in, you looked at the sketch you did and started redrawing the areas that bothered you. Once that was done, you started shading and outlining the prominent features with your charcoal sticks. Then, you started adding little touchups to the smaller details. Finally, you looked at the outcome of your work. You couldn't spot any mistakes after giving it a good look. Finally, you were done with this piece!

You immediately grabbed your things and ran to Vash's room. He was excited to see you once you knocked at his door. Once you changed clothes, showered, and brushed your teeth, the both of you got comfortable in each other's arms in bed. Despite how stressful the past few days were on you, you were grateful to have Vash intervene and take care of you. After today, you were not afraid to take a couple of much needed breaks. Especially if it meant Vash would be spending time with you during those said breaks.

@daschstuff @bunnigrimm

#vash x reader #vash x y/n #vash x you #vash the stampede #vash the stampede x y/n #vash the stampede x you #vash the stampede x reader #vash reboot #trigun stampede #trigun fic #trigun x you #trigun x y/n #trigun x reader #trigun #miamochi writes

186 notes · View notes

mauesartetc · 10 months

Note

Hi, I just want to vent: I've gotten huge amounts of backlash for posting my criticisms of Helluva Boss on reddit, especially about Stolas' and Stella's relationship-stating why I think it's a bad depiction of abuse etc. And while I've said things that were insensitive and out of line, I find it very hypocritical that many fans defend Vivziepop to high heaven and act like she's some kinda goddess of writing who can do no wrong.

It's clear to me that many fans are so passionately defensive of the writing because find Stolas and his experiences relatable, and thus they see any criticism of his character and how the abuse is written as a personal attack.

Not gonna mention any names, but I've seen certain people say things that basically dismiss all critics as "immature kids who don't get real mature art like Helluva Boss" and explain the inconsistensies and plot holes with handwaves that while plausible, ignore the rule of "show don't tell". It all feels like ass-kissing and refusing to acknowledge that your fave show has flaws to me.

I really hate the dismissal of any critics as "abuse apologists" when the show itself is terrible at handling the topic of abuse, plays abusive behavior for laughs and depicts things that are toxic as "cute".

I also want to add that some people have justified Stella's one-note personality by saying "real maturity is accepting that sometimes people are just jerks" I find that a shoddy excuse.

I don't believe that any person on the planet is a jerk for no real reason, because real people aren't political strawmen or enemies in a war-propaganda film designed to incite rage and disgust-they have reasons for their actions even if they are disagreeable. To me, the comfortable fantasy is believing that the people who hurt you are evil monsters who only exist to inflict misery, when the truth is that they are their own people with positive and sympathetic qualities like everyone else.

These are my thoughts, I would like to hear yours on what I said.

"Immature kids who don't get real mature art like Helluva Boss"

LMAO okay if that person considers Helluva Boss "mature art", I'm convinced they've never consumed any other media intended for an adult demographic, and therefore have nothing to compare it to. The only time Helluva felt like a show for adults (to me, anyway) was Moxxie and Millie's song in "Ozzie's", where they have the confidence to reaffirm for themselves that they don't need to be kinky to have a fulfilling sex life. That's a message actual adults can relate to and need to hear. But the rest of the show comes off like it was written by edgy teens who think they know how to balance comedy and drama just because they've seen BoJack Horseman. Spoilers- They don't.

You're allowed to like it, you're allowed to think it's a good show overall, but... mature? Is it really? C'mon now.

Here's the thing: When people know they have no argument, they start mischaracterizing their opponent's position so it's easier for them to take the moral high ground. Easier for them to "win". Oh, you're not a fan of this show? You must be an abuse apologist, or a homophobe. They make these claims despite having little to no evidence they're true, just so they can disregard reasonable criticism and retreat to their comfortable little bubble where no one disagrees with them.

And you see this kind of rabid defense whenever someone has developed such an unhealthy attachment to something they like that it's become a vital part of their identity. They feel, at least subconsciously, that any attack on that thing is an attack on them. Why do you think some sports fans throw a fit when their team loses?

This is partly why I feel it's important to criticize media you like in addition to media you don't, understanding that nothing made by human hands will ever be perfect. If you can get some emotional distance from it, you won't get heated every time someone expresses the tiniest beef with it. Because chances are, it might also be a criticism you've made.

But I think at this point it's best to just disengage. If someone's made their mind up on a particular topic, no amount of convincing will change it. Leaving the conversation (or not entering it in the first place) is always an option. Block that subreddit if you have to. If you think they're wrong, let them be wrong. In a few years, they might find some sense of identity outside the stuff they enjoy, or they might not. It's not really your concern. The only real winner in an internet argument is the one who has a life outside of it.

#helluva boss #helluva critical #fandom #ask #chinesegal

86 notes · View notes

fishing-lesbian-catgirl · 7 months

Note

tell us about your timeloop lesbians? :3

When I played Elden Ring and started the Melania fight I started to feel sad for her because no matter how many times she kills me, no matter how much better she is that I’ll ever be, I’ve already won the fight. It was a weird kind of feeling seeing this beautiful woman who outclassed me in skill in every possible way, seeing her cut me to ribbons countless times, and knowing that it would never be enough. If she slips up a single time it wouldn’t matter how much better she was, she could kill me thousands of times and I only had to kill her once. Something about that activated the part of my brain that loves lesbians in tragic circumstances and I created my own.

Okay before you read any of this I want to say I’m a bit conflicted writing thing because I think the ambiguity of the short story I’m writing about them is part of what I think makes it interesting. That said, I love rambling about my characters soooo….

That Her Will May Come To Pass was born in the temple of the goddess of the harvest, divination, inevitably, and time. As all born into the faith, the scryers and weavers saw her fate and wove for her a threaded talisman that depicted the destiny the goddess had in store for her. She was predestined to become one of the elite few who serve as the goddess’s Threads of Fate, the holy warriors trained to carry out the Will of the goddess, thus the name That Her Will May Come To Pass. From the day she learned to stand she was trained in arts of combat. While her peers learned to be diviners, preachers, weavers, and healers, she learned to fight for a purpose she did not yet understand. When she came of age she was brought before the other Threads of Fate and the high priestess, and her sacrament of initiation began. A golden thread woven into her talisman was cut and pulled free, where it was then burned. The ashes were dispersed into the hourglass relic that served as the crowning jewel of the temple, and her tongue was cut out in ritual silencing.

That Her Will May Come To Pass then learned the truth of her destiny, the reason that goddess she devoted her life to serving was never wrong with her predictions, was partially because of the Threads of Fate. She found herself assigned missions facing off against enemies with seemingly impossible odds. When she was struck down, initially from an arrow finding purchase in her heart, she felt the world shatter. It remade itself and she found herself just outside of where the fight began. The difficulty didn’t matter, with unlimited tries anyone can overcome any obstacle. Thankfully, due to her training as a warrior, it rarely took more than three.

The story, which I hope to some day post here once I finish editing and rewriting it, is about her facing off against a foe far greater than herself, being trapped in the unending loop. But the longer she spends being killed by a warrior her skill cannot compare to, the more she finds herself admiring her. That Her Will May Come To Pass is conflicted by her realization that none of it matters, her foe is the greatest warrior she ever met, and yet the goddess’s rigged loop has made her victory’s inevitable.

As is true of all media, a summary of it won’t really do it justice. I hope to eventually let you all experience it for yourselves. Also sorry for answering this like over two months late lmao

#my writing #that her Will May come to pass #an endless dance

55 notes · View notes

confessionsofa-roleplayer · 3 months

Text

I'm sure a lot of people are going to gasp in outrage at this one, but after following the pattern for long enough it deserves to be said: 9 times out of 10, fandom-popular mainstream artists are GOD AWFUL roleplay partners, and it's because they refuse to adapt their approach to this hobby in any way whatsoever. A lot will parrot the old line of 'only create for yourself!!' because that's what they've been living by for the last 20 years, but that does NOT work in a fundamentally collaborative hobby where the recipients are a PART of the experience. Roleplay isn't just a creative hobby, and it's not a solo act. It is, first and foremost, a GAME you are PLAYING with OTHER PEOPLE. Your approach and expectations should reflect that. If they don't, the other party getting fed up with your selfishness isn't the problem. Your refusal to adapt accordingly is.

Being expected to care about your partners should not translate to 'how DARE you expect me to compromise my grand vision???' when your 'grand vision' clearly isn't as grand as you think it is. Cool ideas, cool plot, cool muses, good writing… Wrong medium. This applies to ANY kind of interactive artform; if your art is something that requires outside interaction to function, it CANNOT be an afterthought that gets tacked on at the end. Everyone will know it, and nobody will like the result. If you feel like you're playing tug-o-war with your partners over the cool plot you put together, maybe you should consider WHY that is happening instead of taking your control issues out on other people. The answer is generally that you didn't bother to create it with interactivity in mind, and now nobody knows what's expected of them because there WASN'T anything expected to begin with.

Your partners are not an 'audience' or 'consumers' or 'fans.' They are participants in the process, and should be treated as such. They don't exist to clap for you, they're here to contribute and build onto it.

This gets WORSE when so many insist on taking 'artistic liberties' with the rules of the hobby itself and openly cheat, godmodding and metagaming and the like in order to brute force the result they want, despite claiming to be against all of these things. THIS IS NOT AND NEVER WILL BE OKAY. And if you don't understand why, let me ask you this: if you were on the receiving end, would you be okay with THAT? If the answer is no, don't fucking do it. THIS is the stuff that I've seen kill community after community. Double-standards ruin the game for everyone involved, and it WILL wear people down over time.

So, now that I've focused on what you should NOT do, I'm going to give you a bit of advice: this does not mean you should create things you don't enjoy making, but that you need to look at it from multiple perspectives at once. Create a work that you enjoy making, definitely, but also ensure it's an experience you'd enjoy PLAYING. If you wouldn't have fun as a member of the plot you're running, that should clue you in pretty quick that something's wrong. You don't need to cater to everyone. That's absolutely impossible. But you should at least be catering to SOMEONE. If your target audience is (N/A) then yeah, that's a problem you should probably work on.

This phenomenon is the most glaringly obvious with videogames as an artform; an ambitious creator designs this whole big game with beautiful art and a story they enjoy writing, but the gameplay itself is a boring, frustrating, and/or glitchy slog that was never designed to be played, and thus completely overshadows the experience they thought they were creating. Nobody plays it all the way through, their story is left untold, and the creator just screams and bawls about how nobody appreciates their 'art.' No, people appreciated your art. That was what got you in the door. What they don't appreciate is that nothing else about the experience was worth their time-- because apparently it wasn't worth yours, either.

Roleplay has far more in common with a videogame than a fanfiction, despite what most of the RPC today would like to claim. Neither one can tell its story if the audience refuses to engage with it. You need partners no matter what, so do your best to ensure they enjoy being there. Otherwise they won't stick around long… And you'll have no one to blame for that but yourself.

#general #confessions

21 notes · View notes

tamelee · 6 months

Note

Hey so I had a question and am wondering if you want to answer it because for a sns shipper you’re tolerable not to be mean. Yep I don’t ship sns I like nh together so if you wanna ignore this then that’s fine I don’t really care but what sns shippers always forget is that interpretation is the only thing that matters. I like nh so what? I think they were built well and make sense but that’s not going to make me not a shipper. You guys come up with all these theories that don’t make sense and I don’t like sns and that is my interpretation and that doesn’t make anyone wrong because you have no say in how I should think and feel. So this literally debunks y’all sorry. I still really like your art and some meta if it’s not about sns. Cheers.

Hi, glad to know that I’m tolerable lol. Very interesting.

It seems like you anticipated the possibility of being ignored because we have opposing views on the matter which you’re already aware of, but I wouldn’t ignore you simply because you ‘ship’ something other than me. (Though I’d rather just call myself a fan in the context of SNS.) In fact, you’re always free to challenge anything you want, it’s fun for me and perhaps even informative for us both.

Anyway-

You say;

Interpretation is all that matters

You interpret NH to make sense and well built(/developed)

Your interpretation is right because it’s how you think and feel

You conclude;

Because interpretation is all that matters, your interpretation debunks us all (I guess you mean SNS-fans and the theories that support them)

Ngl, that’s an extremely weak argument (if you can even call it that) 😬 but let’s talk about ‘interpretation’.

Interpretation by nature is subjective.

It’s important for sure, it matters in the sense that your personal perspective helps you determine whether you like/dislike something because your preferences would have no foundation otherwise.

It’s impossible for an interpretation to be ‘wrong’ in a general sense because it’s something that happens naturally when you engage with any creative expression. You observe something, your brain frames the thing, then you attach personal meaning behind it and of course it’s okay to experience anything however you do, because that’s a natural response and different for everyone.

So, in regard to your criticism, I don’t think anyone meant how you think/feel about an experience is ‘wrong’ or makes your interpretation ‘wrong’.

But, using this as a reason to ‘debunk’ us all, makes your logic a fallacy. In other words, I disagree with you. Interpretation is certainly not the only thing that matters here.

Interpretation can change in different cultural contexts, it may require references from other work and sometimes it is so ambiguous to the point where it is even necessary for a reader to draw a conclusion themselves based on the context when it’s not literally ‘there’. A lot of subtext provides the opportunity to delve deeper to see whether your initial interpretation is supported by the narrative or not.

The whole purpose of interpretation in a literary analysis (because that’s what’s important here) is to explain the interpretation and make sense out of the meaning to then determine whether it is valid in the context of a narrative.

In the sense of literary interpretation, there are ways to prove whether an interpretation is correct or not. It is a misinterpretation when you misconstrue the meaning (or any other of the endless elements) behind a story. And thus, theories are made to question and challenge an interpretation/claim/argument etc- which is what SNS fans imo do really well generally.

And that’s why ‘interpretation’ by itself isn’t the only thing that matters when analyzing because it doesn’t prove anything, and 'the thing' doesn't care about your damn feelings nor is it ever really relevant when analyzing. Claiming your framing does prove it all is such a disrespectful way of looking at the literary work. The nature and meaning behind Naruto and Sasuke’s bond requires (and deserves) further analysis and taking a deep dive towards Kishimoto’s intentions, especially after such a random ending and a horrible, misaligned sequel. There are well-supported arguments which rely on evidence based on a (,or THE one and only~) primary source. (The Manga.) Every ‘meta’ is a case-by-case matter of course and I don’t always agree with them either, but analyzing does require a lot of critical thinking and I have admiration for the people who do so/can.

You can strengthen your argument by analyzing how your interpretation debunks SNS-theories and, in the context of the story, (the primary source) why NH is developed well and makes sense. Though I get the shortcut, it seems completely impossible to do and too much of a task, but feel free to try anyway :)!

#asktamelee #naruto talk #naruto fandom #fandom talk

32 notes · View notes

sorchamidnite · 27 days

Text

It only took two words to shatter Sorcha's world, in the end.

"I know."

Those were the only two that mattered, but Luciana had never been a great one for brevity. Seated - of course she was seated, her legs had given out under her years before her heart did - in one of the lower chambers of the ancestral palazzo, off the Calle dei Morti, in a room of gilt and ivory and rich glossy teak, in the queendom of her power, on this night of all nights, Luciana could wax as lyrical as she damn well liked.

"I know, tesoro, and I have known for years. Who drew your mind out of its manacles? Who read your thoughts aloud to he who wrote them back into you? You suspected there was something about you that was wrong, and I knew more than you know - I could make the guess while you were still feeling the new edge on your fangs. Oh," she said, seeing Sorcha tremble, pale as porcelain, "don't be afraid of me, tesoro - "

"I'm not afraid," Sorcha barked - surprising herself with the viciousness of it, as her patience snapped itself and whipcoiled across her mind. "I'm angry, nonna. You knew all along and I was so scared, and you didn't tell me, and I needed your help, I could hae - I could have started all this four years ago! I could hae - "

Sorcha's mouth snapped shut, as she remembered who she was talking to, and where she was, and what night of the year it was, and why she was there. Luciana's arched brow and affable, easy, haughty smile reminded her.

"It's whatever," said Sorcha, settling herself, brushing her knees. "Long game, right?"

"The long game, indeed. You had to come to the conclusion yourself, and the moment of choice, and the decision - and you sit here, and address yourself to me thus, and that speaks to the decision you have made."

Does it? thought Sorcha, and "it does?" she said aloud.

"Naturally, I would like you to remain here," said Luciana, and Sorcha's face froze. She swallowed, took a moment to compose herself - one outburst she could get away with, two would test the anziana's indulgence.

"With respect, nonna Luciana, I have tae decline your invitation - most gracious invitation as it is. My father, my family, they need me - my city, my people, they need me - my sisters, my lover - " and as Luciana stirred in her chair and made to speak, Sorcha rose from her own and knelt on the shining hardwood, pressed both her hands into Luciana's lap and looked up at her with the widest eyes she could muster.

"I can't leave them all, nonna, no matter how much I love you, no matter how much I want tae be with you. And I don't - I can't be like you, either. I thought I could but I can't. I'm not like you. The Black Art doesna come easy tae me. I have tae work at it. That's why I am - " and she wiped her eyes, and kept talking.

"That's why you're wrong about me. I choose both. I am Dunsirn, an' your grandchilde, an' I'm Duskborn, an' I am gonnae crack the one wide open wi' the other. Build wide, no' tall. Hack, cheat, an' backdoor my way intae somethin' you can't do, 'cause you're the best there is at what you do an' there can't be two of us."

Sorcha sniffed, and added: "Please don' kill me? My boyfriend'll be furious."

Luciana's grave face, rich and rotten as her city, lean and sallow and old, cracked into an autumnal laugh: cold, and chilly, and clammy. It thrilled through Sorcha's head and over her skin and down into her knees and fixed her where she knelt.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, tesoro," she said. "I had you in mind for another Nadia, but you would pine far more, and for far better reason. I would bind you to me and keep you at my hip for a century, but what would you learn from me, save all that I already know? And as you say, you are something new, and rare, and special. But..."

There was always going to be a but.

"We are in Venice, my grandchilde, and we are here on the sufferance of the Promise and the Prince."

It was always going to be bad. If Luciana invoked the Camarilla, she was going to do something she didn't want to take the blame for -

"As such, I will permit you to leave only on their sufferance, and in accordance with their customs."

Dark water, rising. The green, salty, opaque of the lagoon. And Sorcha's heart on fire, burning, burning, burning as the quicksilver tore into her skin -

Sorcha understood her dreams, at last.

#ooc

9 notes · View notes

starkjoy · 1 year

Note

i think i'm just feeling sad if that's okay to express here? like, the writers in the past have just, made me feel so seen and safe as a queer person. they haven't been afraid to explore, like, the ways in which 'deviant'/queer sexuality is subject to ridicule/punishment within family systems and broader cultural systems. i'm thinking about logan's repeat homophobia towards kendall (especially), roman, greg's dad, etc. and then the writer's just built up such like, profound homoerotism between tom and greg and countless other characters. and it just sort of seemed to me like they were gearing up for a really meaningful display of solidarity with queer folk? like with logan out of the way, the frontrunner of the patriarchal oppression olympics, the queer ships could have so much freedom/bandwidth to just, i don't know, live?? and instead it feels like, all of the writers gave into comp. het overnight, and now we're just getting a bunch of conwilla and tomshiv and shiv/mattson scenes as their queer-coded ships fade to the background and sink to the bottom of the sea 😣

thank you for sending this in and trusting me to share your thoughts!

while i don't want to start any major discourse since the season isn't over yet, i don't blame any fans for feeling disappointed or duped by the change of pace thus far. i don’t think succession ever set out to be some bastion of queer representation, and i highly doubt every seemingly queer-coded moment was intentional. that being said, in tomgreg and roman's case, the writers definitively used gay subtext and homoeroticism as both a plot thread and character development tactic. now it seems they’ve put those choices on the back burner, allowing the queer dynamics to rest in ambiguity while straight pairings are given more explicit attention.

it’s disappointing particularly in tomgreg’s case given how vital their queer-coded subplot was to the culmination of last season’s finale. i disagree with takes that are like, "if you ever thought tomgreg was going anywhere, you're stupid or haven't been paying attention." yeah, tomgreg going "canon" was never a likelihood—but i think that's moreso a testament to the realities of queer representation rather than the nature of their relationship in the show itself. that’s a whole can of worms i don’t want to open quite yet without having seen the full season.

despite what the writers may have intended, intention does not invalidate interpretation. in fact, in a business where art is made to be consumed and the art’s financial success hinges on that consumption, interpretation is just as important. don’t let anyone tell you your reading of the show is wrong, and don’t ever feel "stupid" for hoping for more, even if that’s unlikely. if the writers are going to drop crumbs, they shouldn’t be surprised fans want to follow them to a full meal.

#anon #ask #tomgreg #succession #sorry for the delay but i felt i owed you a thoughtful response!

41 notes · View notes

narcoticwriter · 2 years

Text

Me: (looks at leaks) Okay, new characters! Can't wait for their storylines . . .

Genshin Twitter: WHY ARE THEY WHITE-PASSING AND PALE AND STEREOTYPICAL AAAAAAAAAAAAA-

Me: (looks at my roots and being a historical nut) (cracks knuckles)

In what may be one of my most controversial posts yet, I attempt to explain and process what the hell is up with the Sumeru leaks.

I do not expect to not be clowned for this.

Folks, you kinda jumped the gun on this one. Seriously. I have a few points to make on this and it may not be liked, but as a history enthusiast and someone who loves to learn, I have to clarify some things.

If I do get some things wrong, feel free to correct me on them! That's kind of the point here. I'm always ready to learn some more.

1.) Sumeru is somewhat based on the Abbasid Empire.

If people bothered to look at the content we've received about Sumeru so far and actually pay attention, you will be able to tell that there are Indian, Persian, and South Asian elements to the region as well as Middle Eastern. This is shown in the little bits of information that you can find here.

And if one looks at the reaches of Islamic empires throughout history, it will show that at some point, these elements have mixed, matched, or have come into contact with each other during the Islamic Age.

The picture below represents the reach of the Islamic Empire during its initial run from 622-750 CE under the Umayyads along with the Islamic Golden Age under the Abbasids.

The regions that are shown here include Egypt, Persia, the Arabian Peninsula, Northern Africa, Central Asia, India, Turkey, Iberia, and Central Asia, but they do not do justice to the spread of their culture and Islam at the same time periods.

(Please note that while the empires did not reach these areas the places shown were heavily influenced by Islamic culture and religion, thus forth making them majority Muslim at the time.)

And as you can see, South Asia is right there.

Now look at these maps compared to a modern map of the same areas and tell me with a straight face that this region wasn't diverse enough to hold multiple cultures besides Egyptian and Arabic.

This would not only explain the different regions featured in Sumeru concerning the characters but also why they may or may not look different and dress as such. I'll go into the really gritty bits about the dress later.

2.) The Baghdad House of Wisdom definitively inspired the Dendro Archon's basis as the Archon of Wisdom and Sumeru Academia

This point speaks for itself, but just to be sure people get it, the Baghdad House of Wisdom was considered the height of knowledge and intellect for centuries during the Islamic Golden age.

As the crown jewel of the capital of the Abbasid Empire, every nation in the known world and their rivals wanted a piece of what was in that place! We got math, language, science, stories, art, music, and all sorts of stuff from them. In fact, we have them to thank for preserving a good chunk of human knowledge, even with its destruction in 1258 by the Mongols.

Now, wisdom is typically defined as the application of knowledge and intellect combined with practical experience, which Sumeru may or may not have a lack of at the moment if Lisa brings this point up once or twice with the state of Sumeru's intellectual elite. This may or may not be the hinting of inspiration from the Abbasid Empire's decline due to bureaucratic corruption, heavy taxes, social strife, civil war, and the impending Mongol invasion.

With this, it's no mistake that Sumeru Academia and the area surrounding it sounds a hell of a lot like that intellectual haven and that it may or may not serve as a tragic future plot point.

3.) Dori's design does take some checkmarks for orientalism, but for less reasons than you think.

Yeah, you guys need to look at this first. You need fresh eyes.

First of all, I'm going to tell you to completely banish Disney's Aladdin from your mind. It holds no bearing on what I'm about to say. None. It's a cheap copy. Don't even process it, because I'm going to bring up the real inspiration of One Thousand and One Nights.

Contrary to popular belief, the stories contained in One Thousand and One Nights is not based in just the Middle East. There's actually a lot of it based in Persia and Mesopotamia as well as in India, South Asia, and some of China.

If the time period of this is to be believed (the book itself was published around the same Islamic Golden Age I keep bringing up), the style of dress was vastly different from what people think, and speaking of their style of dress, I'd like to introduce you all to something called the shalwar kameez.

The shalwar kameez is popular in Central and South Asia (Pakistan, India, Afghanistan) and As you can see, the bagginess of the bottom is very accurate, and given the established fact of Sumeru's basis, this dress has some historical basis and concrete reasons for it to exist.

Now, let's talk about the lamp. There is real basis for this to be a thing, but I need to clarify some things first. This lamp is based on an oil lamp and to be fair, the basic design for it being made of metal and its look stay true to its purpose and sticks to the regions discussed here. Bronze oil lamps of this look were definitely around.

Now I will briefly touch on the djinn. Djinn are classified as beings of elemental energy and naturally inclined to pranks, harmful or playful as well as possessing an unholy amount of power and knowledge. Djinn in Islamic canon have been known possess people, produce offspring with them, and be described as a force of good or evil.

In the tales within the One Nights, however, they are typically trapped in small objects, typically a ring or a lamp. The rubbing of either of those things can summon them out. In the tale "The Fishermen and the Jinni", the jinni (djinn) is the one to grant the fishermen three wishes, while in the tale "Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp", Aladdin acquires a djinn in a ring and a more powerful one in an oil lamp.

So the djinn in the lamp at its basis is not stereotypical at all as the idea of having an all-powerful being trapped by something relatively insignificant to its existence is common enough.

However, the overarching cry of what I believe the rest of the design is based on is something that I can see wholeheartedly. The 'dancer girl' top does not mesh at all with the time period described in detail and does indeed give to the stereotypical orientalism. This video goes more into length on that here.

So yes, there is issue with the dress and inspiration behind it, but it was not the egregious crime it was made out to be.

4.) I am personally terrified that appearances have such large precedence over personality with people in this fanbase.

We haven't met them. We don't know them. We have no idea what they're really like at all. And yet, despite this fact, everyone loses their shit once they aren't what they envisioned them to be based on what they look like. Even if they are pale as hell, why does it matter so much? Do I wish that they could consider that? Sure! Will it cripple my enjoyment? No!

As someone quite dark-skinned myself who has suffered constant mischaracterization and bullying at the hands of literally everyone around me for acting certain ways while looking the way I do, I find it puzzling and concerning that people are so quick to write people off because of the color of their skin as the very same thing has happened to me.

As a result, this point has to be made as controversial as it has become:

Culture does not equal looks and there is no difference between discriminating against skin colors because the basis of it is the same.

Let that sink in for a second.

People really call themselves 'not racist' and 'educated' and then they pull this kind of heinous shit in public discourse and pretend that it's completely okay because they looked white.

And I guarantee you that if they were dark-skinned, people would still call it racist for being 'the stereotype'. I've seen it happen and it will likely happen again. You can't please anyone anymore.

----

So those are my thoughts on the leaks and everyone's reactions to them. Feel free to agree, disagree, or do something in between because I don't care anymore. I'm tired of skin color determining everything here. It exhausts me.

Take the L and go.

#(sighs)#now i'm just depressed #going ham #genshin leaks #genshin impact #narky thinks

154 notes · View notes

decamarks · 2 years

Text

the thing people point out most often in my paintings is usually my use of color. it's definitely my favorite part of painting, so hearing this always makes me happy. but it's weird, because it's really hard to articulate exactly why i choose colors the way i do, aside from basic color theory principles. HOWEVER, i've recently come to the realization that i have one significant influence that i don't often register consciously: IMAGE COMPRESSION. the way colors are compressed is really similar to the way i choose all the colors i use. here's an example of what i mean:

see on the left it's just a normal, white hallway. but when you start to reduce the number of colors through posterization, you see that there's BLUE! and RED and YELLOW! there's all these vibrant, glowy, low-contrast rings of color banding around the walls, comprising an overall 'white' image. they're like little halos of light. the photo obviously looks 'uglier' when you compress it like this, but i can't help but appreciate how unique it looks. it almost looks iridescent. you would never think to use color like this if you weren't a computer trying to crunch together the closest available colors.

there's a lot lost in a camera's translation of raw sensor data to pixels, but the distortion created can be equally beautiful if you look at it through the right lens. i remember zooming into heavily artifacted art when i was little and thinking "how do the artists know when to use white pixels or very slightly bluish-white pixels??" i ended up trying to replicate this a few times, assuming the reason my drawings didn't look as good was because i was using the wrong colored pixels. this initial misunderstanding definitely paved the way for my fixation on the subject, once i was old enough to know what a "jay-peg" is.

the different containers that data, particularly images and sound, are encapsulated in, always define them in some way. the idea of lossless quality—seeing/hearing something the way it was 'meant' to be perceived, free of distortion—is an ideal that i've learned to stop striving for. there's value in compacting things, and conveying them less than perfectly. this concept isn't anything new, of course. the warm fuzz of record players, the blurry imperfection of polaroid photos... these things are genuinely gorgeous, despite their 'ugliness'. it's almost strange to think that effects like these were compromises with the technology available rather than deliberate aesthetic choices.

dithering, reduced color palettes and artifacting are all obviously more modern forms of 'ugly', and thus less often reminisced about. but i really wonder if we'll see more appreciation of them in the future, and i kinda hope we do... i've been showing my appreciation for this somewhat abstractly, but it's undoubtedly still apparent as an influence in my art. i can't help but love it all, honestly.

there's something undoubtedly charming about images so compressed that it's obvious they've been passed around websites for a while, as well as slightly sped up, 128kbps versions of songs uploaded over a decade ago. yes, sometimes it hurts that you can't covey things with lossless clarity—there is always a distortion; a compromise made to compact raw data into something comprehensible by human eyes and ears. these little bits of 'ugliness' are unavoidable and inevitable, because they define the data itself. even your flawless FLAC files become distorted by the speakers that play them. perceptual perfection is always fun to strive for, of course... but sometimes learning to love the limitations of a medium is the best you can do for it.

#tl;dr: i love Images.#i have SO many thoughts on this subject but it popped into mind again today for no reason in particular LOL #i have another post in my drafts with a similar subject matter but pertaining to 2D vs 3D in particular. maybe i'll post that eventually...

86 notes · View notes

loveoaths · 1 year

Text

I’ve been reading through Darth Momin’s Wookiepedia entry recently and he is fascinating. Momin is considered a “Sith heretic” which, conceptually, is just…… how bad/weird/annoying do you have to be for the SITH, the biggest annoying asshole whiners in the galaxy, to look at you and think, “Yeah I’mma need this bitch OUTTA HERE ASAP”???

The answer is: pretty goddamn annoying. But I’ll get to that in a second.

His “heresy” is believing that the Sith do not control the Dark Side; the dark side controls them. They exist solely to serve it, to please it through their works and actions. He does not believe in the wanton destruction of his peers; he believes in creation. Adding to the world instead of taking it apart. Unfortunately his idea of “adding to the world” is shit like “use the Force to lock an entire city in the second before it’s utter annihilation, thus creating an endless source of pain and fear and terror to fuel my Evil Engine so I can get a good grade in Being Loved By the Dark Side, which is both normal and something possible to achieve.”

And then he fucking FAILS at it because some pesky little Jedi get onto his engine and the mere presence of light side energy distracts him so much that he EXPLODES HIMSELF. this guy sucks so fucking bad it’s unreal. I’m obsessed.

Momin thinks the Sith obsession with Jedi is stupid and irrelevant to their purpose, which is to honor the Dark Side and execute its will across the Galaxy. This school of thought appears to be unique to him, since it is considered antithetical to everything mainstream Sith believe, and it dies with him, because they ensure his name is not recorded in any Sith or Jedi holocron; his legacy is all but eradicated. This is 1) hilarious, but also 2) indicative of the accusation he levels against the Sith: they are so focused on hoarding and hiding knowledge that they undermine themselves and the efforts of their entire group, when they could be serving one goal — honoring the Dark Side — and rebuilding the galaxy in its image. This guy is technically the eclectic fringe hippie guy of the Sith, and he’s like. An art / architecture / engineering triple major with a minor in being fucking creepy.

And the reason he is LIKE this is because he got one (1) bad art review on his first sculpture — which was totally understandable considering he made said sculpture out of the family pet. And Momin decides, fuck it if y’all don’t like my work then I don’t like YOU. Also DIE.

His art (and therefore life) philosophy becomes obsessed with pain and fear. To him they are the only true emotions, the only ones that define our nature, the only emotions that matter. Sure dude. I’m sure that has nothing to do with everyone hating your art and being freaked out by you. You totally didn’t create an entire artistic vision that claims how people receive YOUR work is universal and the only purpose of art, because there is no way your art isn’t just awful and bad and nauseating. Noooo, that’s what art is supposed to be!

He also thinks Vader is a bitch, which is hilarious, because seconds after this Vader smears him across the floor.

If this guy was a doughnut, the outside dough would be Art/Stem Boy Who Tells You You Like Art Wrong and his inside would be Hannibal + Villanelle jelly.

He may as well have said “This is my design.”

Oh, and on top of being a brilliant dingus, this guy somehow conjured a door to the dark side itself, pulled his original body from it and transfered his consciousness to it (implying that he has technically unlocked the key to immortality that the Sith have been banging on about for eons), is strong enough in the dark side that a fragment of his soul can survive inside a stupid little helmet long after he’s dead, doesn’t believe in the Master-Apprentice dynamic, is a perfect plot vehicle for any time travel fic because if any bitch has found a way to the World Between Worlds it’s this guy and he WILL be making it your problem, and is somehow both one of the most unique and most exhausting Sith —

All while looking like a rejected Keebler elf.

I’m obsessed.

(Credit to @gffa for these comic images I found in the #darth momin tag!)

#I need to actually buy these comics because I NEED to see the full picture but goddamn I’m so ridiculously amused.#this guy is like. an evil liberal arts school kid. that is objectively so fucking funny #he names his lightsabers Praxis and Direct Action #he is staging the bodies of his enemies as an art installation in the middle of a walkway so everyone has to see his GLORIOUS PURPOSE #he is the teacher’s pet of the fucking dark side. look at me. that’s hilarious. WHY IS THAT SO FUNNY #darth momin #you know i love a freak in a mask. i reject his white boy face though. i’m gonna commission art of him and he will look so awful #darth Vader #I don’t even go here but I do now. I’m a Jedi lover but this guy is too ridiculous not to stan . I’m going to write something so weird #long post #ALSO HIS NAME IS BASICALLY EVIL MOOMINS. THANK YOU TOVE JANSSON!

25 notes · View notes

j1r4ch2 · 2 months

Text

I'll admit that my opinion is probably colored by the cynicism of never succeeding at making money being a creative and instead constantly scrambling back and forth from various min wage entry level industries just to make ends meet, but i think that the way artists are conceptualizing AI video rendering as the end of the world is kind of ridiculous.

Obviousely the possibility of artistic jobs being downsized is very real. There is a present reality of AI taking good jobs from real people. It sucks. It's awful. Real people are suffering; I'm not denying that.

But at the same time this technological paradigm isn't going away any time soon, and as it is now, is way too resource intensive to replace every artist making a living with thier work.

Maybe someday down the road enough GPU farm services will be widely enough available where it is feasible for companies to use generative AI for all of their media needs, thus eliminating countless jobs for artists who spent decades of their life honing a skill, but if being demoted from a professional artist to a hobbyist is the end of the world for some people I seriously question why they practice their craft in the first place.

If it was always for the money, then let the robots take the burden of performing the role of a artist from you, and please relearn creating just to feel something inside of you.

We've had knitting machines and mass produced clothing and textiles for ages, yet in this day where my car can drive itself, people spend hours learning to do fibercrafts etc. And you aren't hearing about etsy fiber artists making 60k/year from their work yet they still enjoy the creative process of it!

This is a nuanced conversation, and a lot of people in poverty situations are going to lose access to their jobs as it becomes automated away, in a more exponentially growing version of what's been going on since 2008 and even back to the 90's.

Its a real problem, but the majority of creators i see whining about this on tumblr, YouTube etc. are middle class or higher individuals who's only experience in blue collar work is the half year they spent working part time at their university campus Starbucks.

A lot of people think they're mad because automation is threatening the validity of their job, but they're actually mad because they think learning a creative skill makes them better than your average blue collar worker and they're appaled at the idea of being the same as the people who run their electric grids, clean their sewers, and stock their supermarkets.

Theyre just using the cultural backlash against explotative machine learning (which is a justified backlash, it's fucking wrong for these generative models to be stealing existing work of art and incorporating it into its training, that's not what I'm defending here) as an excuse to dodge the awareness that they don't think anyone should be doing blue collar work because surely they never dreamed of doing it.

As it stands now generative AI models are too resource intensive to truly replace the scale of workers people act like they will, and the advancement of ML algorithms has enough real potential to better people's lives that its not going away, so I think aside from doing the work of protecting our existing art with things like nightshade etc, it's important to be realistic and give up the fantasy that we are at war with AI companies, and must win, or even more delusion at war with the very concept of machine learning.

Its reminiscent of people who were afraid of computers in 1995 and now can't function in their daily life without the help of their gen z loved one to help them navigate the most basic of user interfaces.

Society will advance, regardless of how we like it, all we can do is be resourceful about it, and find ways that the advancement benefits us.

#Or yall can go on daydreaming about dismantling algorithms or something #Personal #AI

4 notes · View notes

aziraphales-library · 2 years

Note

thanks for all that you do! could you find some fic with the whole good omens gang? i’d really like to read some stuff where crowley and aziraphale interact with newt, anathema, tracy, and shadwell! this is optional but if you could also find some social media au’s with all of them that would be cool as well :) thank you so much!!

You’re welcome! We have all the social media fics on our #social media tag, as well as some fics with the whole gang here. Here are more armageddon buddies fics...

A Demon's Guide to Exorcism, Haunted Flats, and Murderous Plants by Laur (M)

Crowley had a problem but wouldn't admit it. So what if his garbage disposal turned on by itself and his bed shook in the middle of the night and his plants tried to kill him? Demons weren't afraid of anything.

Meanwhile, Aziraphale was puzzling out if Crowley had unofficially moved into the bookshop.

Sunny Picnic with the Southern Pansy by almaasi (G)

As the one-year mark of the Unpocalypse approaches, Aziraphale pointedly mentions to Crowley that he'd like to spend the anniversary doing "something lovely" with "somebody special". Thus, Crowley secretly plans a surprise picnic in Tadfield with Anathema and the Them. Of course, this comes served with a plateful of misunderstandings, a side of moping, and a seasoning of mischief... eventually followed by a deliciously pleasant afternoon.

Rebirth, The Old Fashioned Way by genericfanatic (G)

A few months following the not-pocalypse, Aziraphale and Crowley get inconveniently discorporated. Unable to return to their home offices, they elect to grow new bodies themselves....with a little help from their friends.

Heaven on a Saturday Night by Eighty_Sixed (T)

After the averted Apocalypse, Aziraphale is reassigned to a desk job in Heaven. Crowley tries to bring him back.

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by divisionten (T)

“Well, Pulsifer, I can say with confidence I know exactly what’s wrong with your car.”

“Oh? What’s wrong?” Newt peered down, looking at the undercarriage, as most people do who want to help but have absolutely no skill in basic car repair.

“It’s shit.”

(An anthology collection of the times Anthony J. Crowley, retired demon and occasional slumber party guest, and Aziraphale, forcefully instated Guardian Angel of the downtrodden, get summoned to deal with humanity.)

The Whole Damned World Seemed Upside Down by WyvernQuill (M)

"I just wish things were different," Crowley says... and the universe happily obliges.

Stuck - perhaps forever - in a reality in which Shadwell is the first Wiccan MP, Pepper's only aspiration in life is to be a dutiful wife to someone, and his beloved Bentley is a rusty VW bus, Crowley is slowly learning that "different" doesn't necessarily mean better...

But how long can he bear to live* in a world where Aziraphale hates him?

*Not that he has any other option. The Death of this world can't see blood...

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #post apocalypse #anathema device #newton pulsifer #madame tracy #sergeant shadwell #found family #mod d #apocalypse buddies

81 notes · View notes

sweet-star-cookie · 5 months

Note

I'M SO SORRY TO BOTHER YOU AGAIN BUT JUST ONE MORE THING—

i saw this and i immediately lit up because my story also involves corruption, would you mind telling me more how that works? from what i can gather, yours is about external corruption (if a spirit is moved from the astral plane to earth, i would assume that's what causes the transformation), but please correct me if i'm wrong :D

again so sorry to ask more questions but i've never seen another zodiac creator mention the term corruption in their worldbuilding; i thought i was the only one TuT

Not a bother at all! :D The corruption aspect is very important to the narrative I have planned for Starglass Zodiac, so I've needed to put a lot of time into figuring out how it works. I'm happy to hear you're interested in the idea for your story too! Great minds think alike, clearly ^_^

The general idea for my version harkens back to the main duality between Starlight/Light and Void magic that I’ve established thus far, with the corruption magic being a mix of the two visually.

Corrupted spirits are often called “Unsigned” by the zodiac, referring to how they are lost after corruption and can no longer be protected by the zodiac if they aren't rescued in time. Prior to Cassie’s arrival, they did not know that most of the corrupted spirits were actually falling to Earth rather than just burning out entirely. Unless they can be healed by someone like Libra (or Ophiuchus, previously) prior to full corruption, the other constellations assumed they were lost for good, so it was quite the surprise when spirits they thought were dead suddenly reappeared! Structurally, the Astral Plane exists on top of what is called the Voidlands or simply The Void, and below that is Earth's atmosphere. (From a thematic standpoint this is supposed to represent how you can only see the stars when you have a dark sky around them, an idea that becomes more important later)

As for the corruption process itself, it occurs when there is an imbalance between Light and Void magic on a constellation. Many fear that it comes from the Voidlands itself (as in, literally falling or being dragged into it) and to an extent this is true, but any extended or repeated exposure to Void magic in general can begin the process as well. This is the primary reason why so many of the spirits fear Scorpio, as they assume he's going to corrupt them with his excess of Void magic. This is also why he is able to venture into the Voidlands without being corrupted himself, though it's not an effortless process. And yes you are correct, the transformation is tied to the spirits falling to Earth. If enough Void magic latches onto a spirit, they fall through the Voidlands and down to Earth, becoming an Unsigned spirit that Cassie must restore via the Starglass to return them to the Astral Plane. Her eye emits a bit of energy when one is near, and Flicker is able to detect them as well. It is possible for a spirit to burn out entirely if they either don't have enough of their Light magic remaining to make it to Earth in the first place, or are left Unsigned for too long.

These corrupted forms are usually larger, more aggressive, and rely more on primal instinct than rational thought. Though there are a few exceptions, this is most common for animal constellations, even if their restored counterparts are sapient or emotionally intelligent otherwise. Depending on the spirit, there are specific behaviours or actions that can either calm them down or aggravate them further. Draco, for example, is extremely protective of trees in his corrupted state. Though far more aggressive about it when Unsigned, this behaviour still refers to his role as the guardian of his apple tree, hinting that his usual self is still present. Visually, Unsigned spirits take on a more wispy, ghostly appearance to show how their original forms have been overtaken by the magic. Here's an example using Vulpecula's art:

(both of these are pretty old but you get the idea lol) Vulpy is one of the exceptions in terms of behaviour as an Unsigned spirit, as she maintains her playful attitude in both forms. She's one of the first spirits that Cassie rescues, basically the "easy mode" spirit before the larger and more aggressive ones show up! At first, Cassie is the only one who can see and interact with the spirits on Earth. As I mentioned earlier though, as the story progresses and the imbalance between Earth and the Astral Plane continues to worsen, the Unsigned spirits on Earth take on appearances that are closer to their restored counterparts visually. Some are nearly identical, save for a ghostly glow that still surrounds them. This isn't much of a change for Cassie herself, but the problem worsens as soon as she finds out that other people can not only see the spirits now, but can be actively hurt by them (they've become more tangible, basically), which makes rescuing both innocent people and the spirits a lot harder for her later on!

#thank you once again for reading this monstrosity of a text post lmao #as always if you have more questions feel free to ask! :D #asks #tabsters #Starglass Zodiac #my art #my OCs #long post

4 notes · View notes