#And the.... off to art college (ANGUISH)

[inkyu]

This was an OC doodle page but someone in a discord server requested for me to draw Roxas from KH <333 (Trance is the green guy... his name isn't Chyo...)

[silentmacabre]

IMAGINE ☁️

art donaldson x fem reader (y/n) // slow burn // foundation/universe building // gym romance // college!art // quick read (~900 words)

(a/n: I am such a sucker for reciprocated crushes and mutually nervous meet-cutes so I had to write one with stanford!art. pls let me know what you think and drop any imagine prompts you have in the comments!)

🪽

-

walking into the gym was always somewhat of an embarrassing routine. digging your id card out from the bottom of your bag as keys and coins jingle, receipts shuffling to the side. scanning the card, you offer a ginger smile to the girl behind the desk who doesn't bother to look up from her phone.

on the way to the locker room you pass the weight racks. a group of about six tall, fit boys hollering and talking amongst themselves captures your briefest attention. recognizing a few from around campus, however, only furthers your social anxiety. the first few people file past you into the yoga studio, unrolling lush mats that match their water bottles and headphones.

rushing to the locker room now you turn the corner sharply and hit something solid with a thud.

“shit! im sorry i-” he instinctively grasps your upper arms, prepared to hold you steady.

you look up, frozen from the interaction. the blonde haired boy’s expression is soft and you can’t help but notice his eyes. his pupils are wide despite the blinding fluorescents that line the gym, each iris speckled with different spots of turquoise and mahogany.

“it’s okay!” you rush to offer.

his hands relax their grip, his thumbs in delay as they trail over and then off your shoulders.

you attempt another pained smile like the one offered to the receptionist except this time it’s met with a sweet, slanted grin. his jaw hangs slack slightly, lips parted in anticipation of conversation when another boy, slightly bigger and with a mess of brown curls, turns the corner from the men’s locker room.

“art, man…” he says gruffly, slapping the boy in front of you firmly on the back with both hands. he makes no effort to move.

the taller boy enters your field of vision and his steps halt, eyebrows raised then corrected.

“oh- my bad.”

both boys stand in front of you now, obstructing your path to the girl’s room. adjusting your grip on your yoga mat you clear your throat, the weight of their gaze finally too much to bear.

“well excuse me,”

“oh! sure yeah,” the blonde boy shuffles aside, his friend slowly following suit. “…wouldn’t want to, uh- miss that,” he stutters lazily pointing at the mat under your arm. he lets out an anguished, embarrassed sigh as his friend stifles a laugh.

your eyes lock a final time, the bridge of your nose rosy and hot. as you disappear into the stillness of the girls’ room you hear the two boys speaking in hushed voices.

“who was THAT?” a voice you can only attribute to the brown haired boy asks.

“I- I don’t know. I think she’s in my math?” his voice like gravel, words spoken carefully.

“she’s bangin’, dude.”

“c’mon man…”

“what!”

this observation of you in your self described “frumpiest” state makes your ears burn, the back of your neck prickle with sweat and nerves of having been truly seen.

shoving your belongings into a locker, you collect your water and yoga mat. on your way out of the room you pause at a mirror, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

‘I guess im not too bad,’ you allow.

-

as class winds down, you lie flat on your back allowing the melodic whine of the music to rock you gently as you catch your breath. consciously loosening every muscle in your body one after the other, you open your eyes to sneak a look at the others in the class, all lost in their own moments of reflection alongside you. a series of laughs moving through the hallway causes a few of them to open their eyes but their interest quickly wanes. instead, your eyes trail out the door just as the boys from earlier make their way past. their biceps glisten with sweat and otherwise floppy hair sticks to their temples.

a particularly ragged mane of gold glues your eyes to him. his dimples are deep, his flushed lips framed by smile lines as he grins, deep in conversation. your chest rises and falls faster now, seeing him, remembering his hands fixing you in place.

before he’s out of view again, he turns to peek into the class room, eyes dancing from student to student and finally landing on you. the undeniability of your eye contact forces his head down, the beginnings of a blush dusting his cheeks just as he is out of sight.

you release a breath you hadn’t realized you held at the sight of him. he made you nervous, that much was apparent, but why?

-

leaving, the gym feels emptier without the chime of boys’ abrasive cackles. stepping out into cool autumn air, you’re about to start back to your apartment when you see it.

leaning against a fence post lost in something on his phone it’s as if he can sense you’re there. looking up, his blue eyes seem darker under the cloudy afternoon sky but the smile that pulls at his lips is profound.

“hi,”

he had waited just to see you again.

“can I walk with you?”

-

🪽

[soaps-mohawk]

i genuinely can’t think of any advantages to using ai in a creative space. personally i feel ai and robots should be used for manual labor, not creativity. why would you leave the humans to do the soulless work while leaving the robots (with no heart or feelings or just genuine emotion might i add) to do the things that need to have soul in them.

i am currently in college for business admin and after that i’m headed off to pastry school and then to open and own my own bakery (hopefully). Ai hasnt quite transferred over to the pastry arts and i hope it never will. i feel very strongly on this topic and actually wrote my public speaking final on ai in creative spaces. i concluded that there is only one advantage to ai and its speed. that’s it, nothing else. ai writing will pump out heartless and good for nothing media that will take all the joy out of consuming and creating art.

i will always support creatives and if there’s a moment i even think about using ai for creativity purposes my best friend (creative writing major) has full permission to slap me so hard across the face it bruises. and i extent that free slap to all writers.

i will be forever in awe and eternally grateful for creatives, and writers especially. <3

-🍁

AI has its uses and its place, but the creative space is not one of those. If you can't be bothered to take the time and make the art yourself with your hands, then art is not for you. Same with writing. If you can't be bothered to come up with your own ideas, then writing is not for you. That's fine. There's nothing wrong with that.

It's like that Instagram comment that's being circulated about how AI art made them value the human soul because they've seen art without it. Like sure, it's cool that you can put a bunch of words into a computer and have it spit out art, but that doesn't mean it's ethical or it should be used. A computer will never be able to take the trauma of the bombings in Japan during World War 2 and turn them into a 50-meter tall amphibious dinosaur that breathes nuclear fire. AI will never be able to emulate the soul-wrenching emotions of paintings like Anguish by August Friedrich Schenck or Nāve by Janis Rozentāls among many others. Art requires soul and passion and emotion, and there will never be a computer that can emulate that.

It's like the post I just reblogged. I want AI to clean my house and cook meals for me so I can pour more time and energy into the things I enjoy doing, like writing and crochet.

Fuck AI and support creative people.

[offbrandkyoya]

74 Better luck next time

previous | masterlist | next

With your boyfriend and friends touring around the world, you are all alone. You kept yourself busy with college work and the art competition. You even went to hang with Lumine like olds times. However, it didn’t feel right. You miss the boys, you miss Scaramouche.

You let out a long sigh and laid your head on the table. You’re at the twins place and eating dinner with Lumine. The blonde raises a brow, “Now what?” “I miss my boyfriend…” You pout and she hits your head with her fist. “You’ll see him soon! Now eat or I’ll feed it to the rats outside!” You rubbed your head before taking a nibble of your food.

“Why don’t you call him?” She suggests but that just makes you even more sad. “I’ve tried like a hundred times but he’s busy. I’ve left him almost a 100 voicemails!” Lumine shakes her head. “Yn, you’re miserable.” You frown, “It’s true love!” Lumine gives you a look of sympathy. “I know this might sound mean but if you can’t handle being away from Scaramouche then maybe you should take some time away from him.” You sit up properly with a confused expression.

“Take some time away? You mean I should break up with him?” Lumina nods slowly and your brows furrowed. “I’m not going to do that! I’ll be okay. WE’RE okay! Everything’s perfect. He’s just…really super…duper….busy…….” Your voice fades and Lumine sighs, “I don’t know, Yn. I’m worried for you. You’re always so sad. Long distance isn’t for everyone you know so don’t force yourself to do this. I’m sure Scaramouche will understand.” You abruptly stand up causing her to flinch.

“Thank you for the food, Lumine but I’m going to head home.” “Yn-“ You grab your coat and dash out the door in tears. ‘She doesn’t get it. She’s never been in love.’ You get in your car and sit there for awhile. The thought of breaking up with Scaramouche makes you shiver. You can’t do that. He needs you, he needs you a lot. You begin to drive back to your apartment. Once arriving, you enter your home, and head straight to your bedroom.

You kick your shoes off and plopped right onto your bed. You lay there, staring at your ceiling. “I love you, Scaramouche.” You say out loud. How can you break up with him when he’s already told you he loves you? So what, you guys are a million ways apart? You’re in love! You wiped your eyes, ‘Does Scara think the same?’

You take out your phone and scroll through your Twitter feed. So many fancams of the guys that it’s kind of making you uncomfortable. There’s one thing you didn’t like and it was seeing Xiao with his broken leg. You’re still pissed he was forced to perform but there is nothing you can do. You liked almost all of Scaramouche’s fancams but not so much that it’s suspicious. Your heart flutters seeing his pretty face and you smile. You couldn’t wait to see them live.

Unfortunately, you don’t have enough to buy a ticket. You’re kind of poor and tours are expensive. You barely made it on their last one and it ended up a shit show. You lay your phone on your chest and sigh. “I’m tired.” Your phone starts to vibrate and you see the caller ID. “Albedo? He must’ve ran out of paint.” You stay in your position and answer, “Hello?” But you were met with panic coming from the man’s voice. “Yn, please come. Right now.” You sit up, “Okay, I’ll be there.”

Hurriedly, you left your home again and decided you’d run to the building where the art competition is at. You didn’t know what happened but hearing Albedos frighten voice made you worry. You see the building and sped up a bit more. You were out of breathe but you didn’t stop running. You slam the door open, “Albedo! What’s wrong-“ You froze. You stand there in disbelief and anguish. Albedo stood next to you in sorrow. “I’m sorry, Yn. I-“ You started to walk slowly to your painting, pushing pass the crowd that huddled over it.

You wished this was a dream but it wasn’t. Your painting that you’ve worked hard on, that you wanted to surprise Scaramouche with was ruined. It was covered with black ink and different colored splotches of cool colors. You noticed water was dripping down as well with pencil scratches on…

You grit your teeth and, in a flash, grab hold of your canvas and smash it into the ground. You begin to stomp on the painting, breaking it entirely. Albedo rushes to you, pulling your arms. “Yn! Please stop!” You shake him off and cried, falling to your knees. “Why?! Why would someone do this?!” You screamed and covered your face. Albedo kneels right next to you and places a hand on your back. “I don’t know. I’m so so sorry.” He wanted to cry too.

“Ln.” You lift your head up and look behind you. It was the instructor, the one behind this competition. “I’m sorry this has happened. Unfortunately, we can’t really catch the culprit since we don’t have any cameras.” “Bullshit! This is all bullshit!” You replied. “I was almost done! This ain’t fair!” The lady raises her hand. “I understand but there’s nothing we can do. I highly doubt you can create a piece in just a few days before the deadline.” Your eyes widen, “W-Wha-“ “I advise you step down from the competition. It’s for the best.” Your whole world shatters.

You shove Albedo out of your hold and run out of the building, hearing everyone’s whispers about you. You ran and ran and ran with tears flowing. You shakily open the apartment door and head in, running to your room. The first thing you do is sit on your bed and take out your phone, dialing your boyfriends number. “Please leave a message after-“ You bit your lip and dial again. “Please leave-“ You scream and harshly press the numbers once more. “Yn?” You gasp, “Scara! Finally! Listen I-“ “Yn, can you call me another time?” Instantly, you shut your mouth. “I’m sorry but I really have to go. Nows not a good time but I’ll call you when I’m free, okay?”

You grip your phone. “Yn? Yn, can you hear-“ You hang up and throw your phone to your bedroom door. You cry even harder and hide under your covers. “This can’t be happening!” You shout in between tears. You never hated yourself even more than now.

- HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!!!

- I’ve been super busy with school I’m sorry

- anyways we’re saur back

🏷️ @sakiimeo @coquettemaiden @rmiyuki @kur44pika @theblueblub @jxxji0309 @dreamsofminnie @ohmyfinggod @redactedhimbo @kunisbeloved @akagism2 @sketcheeee @thefandomcrow @beriiov @thenightsflower @yukiipc @scaraapologist @scarletttcroww @samyayaya @crucnhice @monaypo1 @feiherp @myaaones @warcelia @hangecanweholdhands @yuminako @valiryyz @screechingxiaolover @tiddieshakeshownu @ilovechuuyaa @d4y-dr3am3r @dazaisfavgf @swivy123 @ganyusbrideee @sagegreenthinks @the-left-glove @wonderland-fan @kylexzz @kaoyamamegami @whycantscarabereal @rvoulte @eunchaeluvr @lxkeeeee @silvermah @baby-bread-in @yelleloww @magica-ren @itzblazekun @im-inlovewithy0u @featuredtofu @anastaxiah @ask-aph-tanzania @drmyday @what-just-happened-huh @xtobefreex @v4lerixxq @duckyyyx @hannoahs-third-eyelash @brain-r0tt

[milfzatannaz]

I’m finally ready to post about what’s been going on, because I’ve reached a sense of normalcy and I’ve done a lot of processing. You guys don’t have to reblog, I’m expressing this purely for my own benefit.

Sunday night a friend of mine, Basil, committed suicide by jumping off the parking tower by the freshmen dorms. Usually I’d use vague language, but this circumstance needs transparency. I cannot downplay the circumstances of his death.

Basil was in philosophy club and our LGBT alliance with me. Basil was beautiful, with black hair in a haircut I always admired. Basil had lots of flannel shirts and I’ll always remember that about them. Basil loved his art, he loved his major, he was funny and his presence in the room was distinct. One of the last times we spoke was when he presented what movie the philosophy club should watch. Basil is dearly missed.

This pain is being compounded by the fact that my university is fucking failing us. We got (1) email that did not disclose any details about their death. No emergency alert was issued. I have people I know who saw the body. That’s atrocious. There is not any words in the human language to express the anguish I’ve felt and witnessed in a four day span. Basil named their rapists in his final Instagram post, and I’m not even sure the university is taking action.

I am hurting, I am oscillating between craving normalcy and wanting to crawl into bed forever. I miss them. I miss my friends. This has taken away our laughter and our ability to simply be college students because the brunt of the community support has fallen onto us. We are scared, we feel defeated, and it is so hard to focus on missing Basil when we have to scream at the Dean of Students to hear us.

I’m so sorry, Basil, my love. You were, and are, cherished. Your friends are trying so hard to prevent this from happening again, and we all miss you. I’m sorry baby. I hope you are resting.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Short replies today! A couple of follow-ups and miscellaneous ones, and quite a lot of Crewel/Deuce related replies~ A bit unhinged at times.

Anonymous asked:

anon that wanted more info in Edmund here, can confirm nebula college is going on my patiently-waiting-to-be-fed list

Hehehe YESSS Thank you so much, Anon!! I can’t express how happy I am that you are interested in it. And since, once again, Katsu does the majority of the heavy lifting when it comes to anything Nebula-related, I’m right here with you waiting to be fed >:3

Anonymous asked:

I wanna see a spin off called Mobile bs the World, where Mobile has to fight Wallace’s Yandere evil ex Todd to date him.

Omg Anon, please have mercy, Todd isn’t surviving this. This isn’t going to be much of a fight… I feel like Mobile is a much more powerful psychic than Todd, he also has the power of intelligence and Wallace’s love 😔

That being said, I can picture this battle ending unexpectedly and quickly not because of Mobile’s psychic powers, but because Wallace would be confused about why Todd thinks he is an ex – he isn’t, they weren’t dating after all. After hearing that Todd is just going to disintegrate…

I ship them so much. 💪😔

Anonymous asked:

on april fools we are going to get our lovable robot dog in the global version of twisted wonderland. I feel like this means something

“Oh you thought it was a Disney Otome game? Jokes on you: this is a cyborg dog BL VN, and Ortho is the main character, and he is out to get everyone” 😔 Definitely.

Anonymous asked:

I hate how im now wondering if now duece is going to be imagining teacher x student stuff now, with him being the student. Lol

I think we got this one before posting yesterday’s Crewel/Deuce piece, so uhhh congratulations, Anon, you saw right through us lol

The idea definitely never occurred to him before, I feel like Deuce is the type to get surprised by the fact that his teachers in fact do have their private lives and even have sex… such a big and wild idea for his silly pretty head. But he won’t judge!!

Anonymous asked:

by any chance could that new deuce and crewel art have anything to do with deuce seeing him buy a shit ton of condoms? *Don't mind me and my horny fantasies*

Yep~ This is pretty much a follow-up, although I’m not sure how these pieces are tied story-wise. Maybe they aren’t, but both are teasing the same thing – Deuce would look hot when dominated by Crewel.

I think our conclusion is that this bad boy is being punished for being oh so nosy and falling on the floor in front of his professor… he seemed like he really craved his attention, and he got it <3

(fully ignoring the fact that it was Ace who pushed poor Deucey)

furubatsu asked:

Why do I imagine that last Crewel and Deuce pic just being poor Deucy's dream (or nightmare, depending on how panicked he would be waking up) for the next week after that encounter? Poor boy's squirming every homeroom and potions class for ages until Crewl has to sit him down and talk about it.

Yeah, a couple of people mentioned that it looks like Deuce is having a dream/nightmare, and honestly the concept is very hot lol Especially if this is like you described. i.e. the thought/scenario is haunting Deuce and leaves him extremely flustered, confused, unfocused and freaked out.

He could live in this anguish a little bit before this dream becomes reality… just as he convinces himself that stuff of that sort wouldn’t happen to him.

Anonymous asked:

Looks like deuce is getting some extra credit either that or punishment for failing a test or an assignment

Once again, also an option lol Out of all the student characters, I feel like Deuce fits this “punishment for failing a test/getting extra credit” scenario the most, maybe it’s because of how hard he tries to get better and how prone he is to doubting himself. He is also pretty gullible, so an easy target for Crewel, but not so easy that Crewel wouldn’t even get interested in him.

Anonymous asked:

I rise once again from the dead for one reason. Actually, many, your art is absolutely delicious still.

Anyways, thank you for the Crewel content. Have a funny little storytime from earlier this day.

It's has become an inside joke now because we sent it to one of us who dyed his hair dark slate and cut it short recently. It started with the comic where we noticed he lowkey looked like Deuce. So the next day, when we saw the follow-up, we got his ass while he was on a coffee date with his current fling. I facetimed him like it was an emergency and then immediately showed the picture to ask for clarification for where he was last night. Got a chuckle out of his date[he's a vibe], but our friend is mad at us now

- 🐩 anon

Good to hear from you again, 🐩 anon, I’m glad you’re enjoying our stuff~ And your friends too I guess LOL

Oh god, your poor friend. Being outed like that by some rando’s drawing from the internet, I am so sorry 😔 I’m glad his date found it funny though!

Anonymous asked:

do you have any more twst teacher x student ships?👀

Hmm, I don’t think so? Nothing major that I can think of, at least. But we do think of some boys with Crewel here and there: Epel could fulfill a similar role to Deuce because he also has to work extra hard for good grades + a bit gullible; Idia is our favourite boy and could also technically be used for shipping purposes here because of his unique circumstances (i.e. he doesn’t always go to classes, but has to be present during some lab work, so Crewel has extra reasons to pay attention). We’ve talked about Crewel and Vil before but it doesn’t quite give us the sparkles we need, even though we have nothing against it; and we’ve talked about potential Trein ships (or lack thereof) in this post.

I also have a huge beef with Vargas because I can’t figure out why he just doesn’t click with us. Maybe it’s his design? Maybe it’s his attitude? Which is bullshit, because I can imagine someone similar to him working wonderfully, but with Vargas it’s crickets, unfortunately. Which is SUCH A SHAME, because this man CANONICALLY RUINED Idia’s thighs and physically completely exhausted him MULTIPLE TIMES, and this is SUCH OUR THEME TO PLAY WITH, but somehow it just doesn’t work. 😔  

Anonymous asked:

Is is it bad that part of me can see Crewel having one of his dogs (likely a Dalmatian) fucking Deuce as punishment while Deuce is begging for Crewels cock

Anon, yes. Yes, this is very bad, and we agree with you and support you. You’re saying things that people are afraid of saying out-loud. Pups should play with pups...

Anonymous asked:

Soooo…I saw the don’t look at him art of Idia on Bluesky and….Idia…Baby…I’m sorry but you’re way too pretty not to look at. Or stare at. Or…do other things to. Apologies for the unrestrained thirst…

Ohh, that’s an old one! I’m glad you liked it <3

Idia needs to get over himself and accept the fact that he is going to be looked at. Stared at, event <3 Such a pretty pink thing.

Anonymous asked:

I mean…Idia COULD conceivably cosplay as Hatsune Miku without any issues. Plus, he’d look super cute in pigtails. You could occasionally give one a good tug.

Sounds absolutely wonderful, but I feel like if anyone proposed the idea to Idia, he would reply with the biggest “no way” in return. Not only it attracts attention to his hair, everyone’s going to laugh at him for going for a cute anime girl cosplay! This isn’t fun, this is public humiliation! Yada yada lol

I feel like nothing is going to convince him that cosplaying as Hatsune Miku is a good idea… well, maybe Ortho’s puppy eyes could bully him into considering it.

Anonymous asked:

Dare I ask who was doing Idia while he was a maid?

Hmm,  maybe I’m just shit at remembering my own art, but the only maid-related Idia drawing that I can think of is Lilidia one… and Idia wasn’t a maid on this one either, it was Lilia who banged him while looking all pretty uwu

Anonymous asked:

The day I forget to go anonymous is the day I cry. anyways more Adeuce PLEASE those two idiots are my comfort ship aghhhh they are so cute I will crush them with my bare hands

Thank you so much, Anon! We love ADeuce a lot, and I hope we’ll have more stuff with them in the future. We do have some sketches, but who knows when we’ll get to finishing them :(

Also no worries about being anon; if you ever accidentally forget about it, just shoot me another ask or a DM about it, and I’ll post your ask anonymously. I’m not replying to them directly anyways, so it’s all good.

Anonymous asked:

the way you draw violet is so... delicious. *Eats your art and leaves no crumbs*

Thank you so much~ He is our beloved depressed artistic kitten <3 bon appétit.

[pareidoliaonthemove]

Contagion

It was a rare quiet period for International Rescue, and its operatives were all making good on the unexpected free time.

Maintenance had been caught up on. Household chores were completed by human hands, to the exacting standards of Grandma Tracy, and now they had all scattered to pursue personal projects.

John, having elected to remain on Thunderbird Five, was in deep contemplation of the beauty of the cosmos, via the satellites’ state of the art telescope. Alan was chasing down a league record speed-run of a notably tricky game level. Grandma Tracy was pottering in the small, and largely neglected, flower garden. Kayo did yoga. Brains dusted off a pet project left over from his college days. Gordon had taken Thunderbird Four on a marine wildlife survey expedition in Tracy Island’s surrounds. Scott, having finished a backlog of Tracy Industries paperwork, was now idly spending time in an online chatroom with some old, and much neglected, buddies.

Virgil had drifted, unsettled, from one project to another, before being seized by inspiration, and setting up at the piano to score a piece of music he could hear in his head.

Scott had surreptitiously opened comm channels to Grandma and John, so they could listen as Virgil worked. They both loved the music that Virgil wrote, and listening as he composed brought back bittersweet memories of Lucy doing much the same thing.

So they all heard as Gordon came bounding exuberantly up the stairs into the lounge, whooping excitedly about some rare species of starfish that had apparently chosen to set up shop in their vicinity.

“Hey, Virge! You writing some music there? Great! I hope it’s catchy, ‘cause I’ve spent the last three hours with the ‘Pink Panther’ theme stuck in my head! I need something to dislodge it.”

Only Scott saw the expression on Virgil’s face, but Grandma and John heard as the piano tune slammed to an abrupt halt with a crashing of achromatic chords. The anguish in Virgil’s voice as he snarled at Gordon, “Why. Would. You. Say. That. I. Was. In. The. Middle. Of. Something. And. Now. It’s. Gone!”, was enough for them to abandon their projects and start heading to intercept.

Gordon’s self-preservation instincts kicked in, and he high-tailed his way out of the lounge, Virgil in enraged pursuit.

Scott sat for a long moment, trying to massage away an impending headache. Gordon screaming followed by a bellow from Virgil, was enough to have him out of his seat, and setting off after his brothers.

Humming the theme from the ‘Pink Panther’.

Notes:

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

And yes, I have ‘accidentally’ transmitted this particular ear-worm by simply announcing that I had it stuck in my head.

[imaginationstimulation]

"Either/Or" : Existentialism, Poetry, Elliott Smith and Søren Kierkegaard.

Either/Or is the third studio album by American singer-songwriter Elliott Smith, released on February 25, 1997.

The title of the album derives from the Søren Kierkegaard book of the same name (Either/Or), reflecting Smith’s interest in philosophy, which he studied at Hampshire College in Massachusetts. Smith has long been associated with the Danish philosopher, and was once introduced as him at a concert in 1996.

Smith propelled into the international spotlight after three of the songs from this album were incorporated into the Good Will Hunting soundtrack.

*

from the album's 2nd track, Alameda:

Walk down Alameda Brushing off the nightmares you wish could plague me when I'm awake So now you see your first mistake was thinking that you could relate

The lyrics imply that whoever he is addressing here wishes that he keep suffering, so that he can keep creating art. This sentiment is found in a Kierkegaard quote from Either/Or:

“What is a poet? An unhappy man who hides deep anguish in his heart, but whose lips are so formed that when the sigh and cry pass through them, it sounds like lovely music…. And people flock around the poet and say: ‘Sing again soon’ – that is, ‘May new sufferings torment your soul but your lips be fashioned as before, for the cry would only frighten us, but the music, that is blissful.”

Alameda's lyric goes on to address that problems arise when a person thinks of themselves as the same as everyone else. This emphasis on subjectivity is a common existentialist trope beginning with Kierkegaard’s Truth is Subjectivity.

*

Søren Kierkegaard was a Christian existentialist philosopher living in the 1800s in Denmark. What is existentialism? It’s the idea that individuals are ultimately free to make their own choices, and are therefore responsible for their own life in this strange world.

People who believe in the sovereignty of the individual are one step away from also being a poet. What individualists and poets have in common is their care for and focus on the subjective, personal experience of life.

[Recalling] Kierkegaard’s words on what it means to be a poet:

“What is a poet? An unhappy man who hides deep anguish in his heart, but whose lips are so formed that when the sigh and cry pass through them, it sounds like lovely music…. And people flock around the poet and say: ‘Sing again soon’ — that is, ‘May new sufferings torment your soul but your lips be fashioned as before, for the cry would only frighten us, but the music, that is blissful.”

Existentialism presents reality as the individual versus the universe — you and your free choices against the infinite strangeness of existing. Very often this comes across as a negative experience. The world is so big, and we individuals are so small. This leads us to anguish.

Most people stay stuck there, in anguish. But the poet... has the power to channel that pain into poetry, music. In other words, the poet takes the raw and painful experience of existing, and reshapes it into something beautiful for himself and to share with others.

What is a poet? Someone who bears the cross of their suffering, and then transmutes that suffering into blissful music. What a skill to learn.

[justforbooks]

The actor Lance Reddick, who has died suddenly aged 60, played figures of authority with such panache that no matter how many times he was handed such roles, he never seemed typecast. He is best known on film for his part as Charon, the all-seeing fixer in the John Wick movie franchise, but his image was forged playing two ambitious high-level cops on television, Cedric Daniels in The Wire (2002-08) and Irvin Irving in Bosch (2014-21).

In each case he was contrasted with a main character: his anguish at the plight of Baltimore as portrayed in The Wire was expressed with internal restraint, opposed to the knee-jerk reactions of Dominic West’s chronic screw-up, McNulty. In Bosch, he was the politician tormented by Titus Welliver’s relentlessly uncompromising Harry Bosch.

Bosch author Michael Connelly said Reddick “took a character who was paper-thin in the books and made Irvin Irving”. He used his tall, angular frame to express authority; moving his body precisely, deliberately stiff and controlled, his face echoing that pose, covering up the machinations inside his head. Audiences watched as he took in, contemplated, and finally reacted, in a voice pitched with the deep tone of authority. His work in Bosch’s second season, where the death of his undercover cop son opens huge cracks in his closely controlled persona and makes him the centre of the show, is a lesson in transcending ensemble play.

Reddick’s highlights in variations of authority-figure themes came in the TV series Fringe (2008-13), running a unit of Homeland Security; Corporate (2018-20), as a CEO; and Intelligence (2014), where he was head of the CIA. On film he was head of the secret service in Angel Has Fallen (2019), and he played Albert Wesker, boss of the Raccoon Police special tactics unit, in the Netflix TV adaptation of the zombie video game Resident Evil (2022).

He was so good that the star of Wick, Keanu Reeves, given a day off from shooting for his birthday, told his girlfriend he wanted to visit the set, just to watch Reddick in action. Reeves then handed him a note thanking him for “what he brought to the character of Charon”.

Bosch also afforded Reddick the chance to play the piano, thoughtfully improvising at home as if to sort out his thoughts; this might be seen to reflect his own hard path to acting success. Reddick was born in Baltimore to Solomon, a lawyer, and Dorothy (nee Gee), a teacher. His musical talent was apparent at Friends School of Baltimore, and he went on to study at the city’s Peabody Institute, a secondary school specialising in the performing arts. He took a degree in composition at the University of Rochester’s Eastman School of Music and moved to Boston, intending, in his words, to become a rock star.

But his style of music, influenced by Miles Davis and Sting, never fitted a rock star template, and having married his college sweetheart, Suzanne Louis, in 1986, and had two children, he found himself working odd jobs, including as a singing waiter on a riverboat. Crucially, on a night shift at a newspaper delivery depot, he injured his back shifting bundles of papers. Forced to lie in bed, he contemplated how he could support his family, and decided to turn to acting, where he noticed there were more auditions available.

He wound up gaining a master of fine arts degree at Yale Drama School in 1994, and two years later landed his first television role, on New York Undercover; he debuted on-screen in 1998’s ill-judged modern-set Great Expectations.

In 2000 he was cast in David Simon’s The Corner, which led to his part on The Wire, while he also attracted attention with a memorable role as an undercover police officer gone bad in the prison drama Oz (2000-01). Recurring parts in CSI:Miami (2005-06) and Lost (2008-09) followed, and he played James Baldwin in the 2004 movie Brother to Brother. He was the voice of the Falcon in the animated Avengers (2012), and of the villain Ras Al Ghul in Beware the Batman (2013), as well as voicing Commander Zavala in the Destiny video game series, and Sylens in Horizon Zero Dawn (2017) and Horizon Forbidden West (2022).

Along the way he finally got to be a rock star, playing a cop in the music video of Jay-Z and Beyoncé’s ’03 Bonnie & Clyde. In 2007 he released an album of his own music, Contemplations and Remembrances.

John Wick 4 has just been released, and he also leaves behind a store of work that has yet to be seen. Reddick will appear in a remake of White Men Can’t Jump; as Charon in a Wick spin-off, Ballerina; in the Shirley Chisholm biopic, Shirley, and as Capt Blakely in The Caine Mutiny Court-Martial. He also voiced the ultimate authority figure, Zeus, in Percy Jackson and the Olympians for Disney+.

Reddick is survived by his second wife, Stephanie (nee Day), whom he married in 2011, and the two children, Yvonne and Christopher, from his first marriage, which ended in divorce.

🔔 Lance Solomon Reddick, actor, born 7 June 1962; died 17 March 2023

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

[inkedscribbles]

One of the reasons it took me so damn long to realize I was trans was my lack of misery.

Almost every trans narrative I'd heard up to that point was "I cried myself to sleep at night wishing I was a boy" and "She showered with the lights off because she couldn't stand the sight of her body."

My relationship with my body was complicated, like everyone's. Puberty was rough. I felt flames of embarrassment for having breasts, and I wanted them hidden. Martial arts saved me in high school; they allowed me to develop an appreciation for my body based on flexibility and resilience and power and endurance, rather than appearance. I genuinely liked my body for the first time.

Then came college. Boys liked the curves, and I liked the boys. Hard to hate something that gives me pleasure and power. I conflated gender and sexual orientation, too, because I distinctly remember thinking "I don't FEEL like a woman, but I like men, so I guess it's fine."

There's always been a gnawing discomfort with being grouped with "the girls," a sense of alienation and confusion. But it's easy to discount that as dysphoria when every account of transness is certainty (they've always known!) and mental anguish.

I learned to love my body, through rock climbing and kickboxing and great sex and dancing and therapy.

I love it, and it's mine. To nurture and care for. And if I want tattoos and belly hair and a beard, I'm gonna get 'em.

[please-picturemeintheweeds]

So Dear Reader immediately calls to mind Jane Eyre, who in the last chapter of the book says, “Reader, I married him.” This is such a famous line, I took a whole class on just this book in college. Brontë only directly addresses the reader like that a handful of times in the book- similar to how Taylor very rarely addresses her audience. This is such a cheeky way to book end Midnights - Lavender Haze kicking off the album by rejecting speculation about the relationship, and then ending it with a notoriously feminist line where Jane chooses to marry the man she loves, and does so privately. I love that Taylor invokes Charlotte Brontë (who wrote Jane Eyre under a masculine pseudonym, Currer Bell). It places her right where she belongs, in a long line of emotional women creating profound art about love and anguish.

There’s also a supremely sassy line right afterwards, where Jane explains that she’s telling Mary and John, the housekeepers, that she’s been married because they’re the sort of people “whom one may at any time safely communicate a remarkable piece of news without incurring the danger of having one’s ears pierced by some shrill ejaculation, and subsequently stunned by a torrent of wordy wonderment.” Which reminds me of “outside they’re pushing and shoving, you’re in the kitchen humming,” among other lyrics about drowning out the noise of people trying to claw their way into this amazing relationship. In contrast, Mary responds so simply. It’s just a part of life, and she’s happy for them, but she’s not freaking out about it. They’re both silent for a few minutes, and then return to cooking. It has the same intimacy as “silence that only comes when two people understand each other” and “you don’t ever say too much.”

The reference is not very subtle, but it is the kind of literary allusion that we know Taylor likes to make in her work, and it gives such a sweet, snide, and proud flavor to midnights. Like one last little secret confession buried in a gothic romance literature reference in the very last track, when you get there at 4am, delirious. She puts the pressure on the audience: “you. You are a part of this.” and then if you follow the reference, she proceeds to absolutely ROAST everyone commenting on her relationship. Art!!

[mariacallous]

The strategy behind this Republican battle is to fight off the federal state until they have re-established federal power themselves

Florida governor Ron DeSantis has been grabbing national headlines with his relentless attacks on so-called “woke”. In addition to his Stop-Woke (Wrongs to Our Kids and Employees) Act, which prohibits educational institutions and businesses from teaching students and employees anything that would cause anyone to “feel guilt, anguish or any form of psychological distress” due to their race, color, sex or national origin, he has barred University of Florida professors from giving evidence against the state’s voting law, claimed that professors at public colleges have no right to freedom of speech, and organizing a “hostile takeover” of the New College of Florida, one of the best liberal arts colleges in the country. But he is far from the only Republican politicians to attack the education system.

UCLA Law School’s CRT Forward Tracking Project has tracked 567 anti-critical race theory (CRT) efforts introduced at the local, state, and federal levels. According to the World Population Review, there are currently seven states that have banned CRT, while another 16 states are in the process of banning it. That constitutes almost all states with a Republican governor. While CRT is a highly specific academic theory that is almost exclusively taught at some law schools, the anti-CRT laws are incredibly broad and vague and target all levels of education. In my state, Georgia, House bill 1084 bans the use of so-called “divisive concepts” (eg race and gender) from teaching and, although it includes several exceptions and stipulations, these are so broad and vague that many teachers will simply stay away from these “divisive concepts”.

Although all bills explicitly ban the teaching of classic racism, ie that “one race is superior to another race”, they also ban the teaching of institutional or structural racism, ie the idea racial discrimination is not just the consequence of a few racist individuals (“bad apples”) but that it is structural, engrained in the country’s key institutions – from election laws to law enforcement. The idea is simple: if kids are not taught about institutional racism, and the white supremacy it upholds, they won’t question it later when they are voters. As Orwell knew, historical revisionism is always a project for the future.

Both legal professionals and laypersons have noted that “the bills are so vaguely written that it’s unclear what they will affirmatively cover”. This is not because of incompetence or oversight but by design. The vagueness serves, at least, two goals. First, and foremost, it makes the laws hard to interpret, which leads those targeted (from teachers to principals) to be extra cautious. Second, the vagueness provides deniability, both to the courts and to more moderate supporters. In fact, the prime goal is not for the state to censor teachers and schools but for them to self-censor. That is why it was only a minor setback when a Florida judge struck down the “Stop Woke” law, calling it “positively dystopian”. Across the state, teachers and universities had already started to self-censor. For instance, the University of Central Florida (UCF), the state’s largest university, removed all anti-racist statements from departmental websites, while several of its professors decided to cancel scheduled courses on race out of fear of breaching the “Stop-Woke” law.

Although most of the current laws are targeting public institutions in Republican-controlled states, they are part of a national agenda. In his first speech as re-elected House speaker, Kevin McCarthy pledged to fix “woke education indoctrination in our schools”, while former President Donald Trump has made the “issue” a priority for his 2024 campaign. Building upon the misguided ideas of his 1776 Commission, whose work was cut short by Trump’s lost re-election bid, the former president not only wants to stimulate “patriotic education” but also cut federal funding for any school or program that includes “critical race theory, gender ideology, or other inappropriate racial, sexual, or political content on to our children”. And, make no mistake, university administrators will not risk losing millions of federal funding for a “gender” or “race” class, not even at the private Ivy Leagues in solidly blue states.

The recent Dobbs ruling has shown once again that “states’ rights” are not a Republican principle but a defensive, and temporal, strategy to fight off the federal state until they have re-established federal power themselves. We cannot expect individual schools and teachers to fight this battle alone. We also shouldn’t expect the educational establishment to stand up for academic freedom, as was made clear by the recent decision of the College Board, which stripped down its AP curriculum for African American Studies to appease DeSantis.

To counter the highly organized conservative attack, we need a concerted and integrated campaign from all individuals and organizations that support academic freedom and liberal democracy, from the AAUP to the ACLU, and we need it sooner rather than later, as the damage is already being done – one in four of all teachers across the country have already altered their lesson plans due to anti-CRT laws. After all, as Orwell has taught us, how we see the past determines our future!

[60b3r]

Catching up with life.

It's been over five years since I graduated from university, and here I am, once again, applying for jobs like a robot. I have sent over 4 to 5 job applications per week, tweaked my CV individually once a month, and hand-crafted my cover letter uniquely for each jobs I applied to. To top it off, I have been doing this for 2 years combined. Assuming that is not an overstatement, I have been sending over 300 job applications to different schools, universities, and even across other industries. With this overkill—yet seems to useless—Masters degree, it does not serve as a selling point, since it is being considered inconsistent with the common practice prevalently found in Indonesian universities, that one's Masters degree should be linear in order to work in academia as a lecturer. I even had to consider dropping my Graduate degree and went with my Bachelors degree to apply for jobs. People kept saying that biotech is the future, that the sciences are dawning all over, technology grows at light-speed, but all I experience is frustration and anguish. People kept telling that I am overqualified, that there's no way I am always between jobs with such emotive motivation and carefully curated skills and my beautifully AI-tweaked resume. I’m seriously starting to consider giving up this life and trekking into the wild to make my new life, Randall Clark-style. Here I want to reflect back on my past few years' endeavor and remind myself that job-seeking is such a dehumanizing process and something must be done to fix this. But before that, a quick background on my life so far. Consider this as a short, catching-up telltale.

Right after graduating in 2018, I was so motivated to fix the education system. I applied to teaching jobs and got myself a first formal job teaching Biology and caring for a dormant Science Club back in my alma mater. Why not apply for the industry sector, you ask? There's not enough room for Biotech graduates in Indonesia, and despite what people say about the unique nature of the niche, most of the positions can either be filled with Chemical Engineering graduates, or just General Biology graduates. There's not enough value created by pursuing Biotech degree, apart from continuing in academia as a researcher. After one year, I didn't renew my contract and decided to pursue for higher education, which I thought it was necessary to create a bigger impact. I thought back then, "Here I am, teaching young generation Biology and the art of life, some of them might be doctors or environmental engineers, yes, but majority of them won't even need these stuff." I said that to myself, exactly like I was thinking back then when I was their age and learning mathematics. it was 2019 when I decided to pursue MSc/PhD Biotechnology abroad, to allow myself to engage with wider masses upon completion. This time, high-schoolers, next up, college students, or so I thought. But life is a bitch, and then we all gonna die anyway.

Luckily at that time, right after my resignation was granted, I got myself three Letters of Admission: from two different universities in The Netherlands and one from Sweden. I'd then applied for several scholarships program, one of them being the notorious LPDP. The task of simply qualifying for the first round of paperwork selection was very tedious and stressful. It was my first time dealing with a plethora of documents to prepare, and I could say the tears and blood was even worse than the process of getting an LoA from the three campuses. After two more selection stages, long story short, I didn't qualify after the interview process, and I plunged myself in depression. A month later, I collected myself to start over, and this time, applied for jobs in the edtech startups. My thoughts were somehow I could work for a while, save enough money while still creating impact, and fund my Masters off my own deposits. Well again, fortunately I told myself at that time, some unicorn companies contacted me, and somewhat early that year, precisely February 2020, I was called into one of the big edtech company to attend an interview. I scrambled to book a ticket and a homestay for 2 days and... Oh boy. Three days before my departure, Jakarta shut down the borders and Covid ruined my lifelong dream of studying abroad. Interview cancelled, plane ticket burnt, and that hotel bed never touched my back. No job, no credit, eat shit. All 2020 I cried myself to sleep.

The anxiety caused by the uncertainties was so dreadful, I fantasized going for a program—the one in the Netherlands—anyway. Talk about coping using unrealistic expectation. So I emailed the admissions office and requested to postpone my first semester to October 2020 or March 2021 (they granted the former but refused the latter). I even paid for the dorm room in the Netherlands, when I was very certain that this was just another viral outbreak that's gonna resolve on its own after several months (that was also a false hope). Then, my family business took a major hit due to lockdowns imposed by the local government, and everyone went nuts. All plans go bust, and out of nowhere, suddenly, all homeschool students I have been teaching stopped responding to my calls. All types of businesses from across all sectors took a hit. Purchasing power bottomed out. Monetary circulation grounded to a halt. In the midst of all this blazing hellfire that is a financial crisis, it was in the middle of 2020 when I applied for student loan to get myself into a campus in Jogja. I thought "Well, it can't be that bad, right, I can still go to Jogja and pursue another Masters here, domestically, without going abroad and waste lots of money." So did everybody else thought, when we all first had our online classes in October 2020. But fast forward to early 2022, It's like everyone skipped two years of their life, staring at the screen for several hours drying out eyeballs and get nothing from classes other than just one or two classes that are actually elective subjects, not among the core courses.

I greeted 2021 with much hope, a hope that someday I will be able to meet my classmates and hunt for Jogja food later in the day after classes. I would have scoured through the libraries of the renown, and I would have also joined several student councils during my studies. But no. Not even once we got a call from campus saying our classes would go from distanced learning to on-site learning. I spent 2021 lurking around Malang trying to find a closure, visiting many natural places where I used to enjoy, gulping so many unhealthy foods down my throat to ease the numbing pain, even engaged in some risky behavior of ████████████. The year ended with more student debt, an unfinished thesis proposal, a broken heart, and still, no single job interview landed. Yes, I even went through Masters fully online (including all of the phases of research). I spent all 2021 mourning the hundreds if not thousands of what-ifs while drafting my thesis proposal. A small ember light up in the darkness, I got myself a job replacing a science teacher in Surabaya during her maternity leave. I got the contract extended just before I finished my thesis defense, and I am stuck in Surabaya for another year of inconsecutive work experience. Not even a single time I ever stepped my soles on campus grounds in Jogja during my enrollment there. The only chance I got to be closer than ever to my supposed campus building is during my awards ceremony where I returned my graduation robes.

I got paid three times the amount I got when I was working in my alma mater. I got myself a small room not too far away, and after selling my family's car, I even got a small discount since I am not using the provided parking space anymore. Plus, after over half a year, I can save more than I could usually save because there are no more gas-hungry beast that is my 1.5L turbocharged CVT Medium SUV. The school itself was decent, I got mediocre lunch everyday and to be honest there are less paperwork than the previous jobs I had been working on, but oooh the lab equipment and the learning materials are very lacking. I requested for some upgrades here and there, and they didn't even bat an eye. I have to struggle and come up with weird hyper-crearive plans to deliver the lesson, which by the way are not just biology, but also physics, chemistry, and geography. I enjoyed most of my time teaching, but considering a majority of students would leave the school and continue somewhere else, the school management decided to cut over half of the staff earlier this year. By the time of writing, I still need to finish my contract, though. Fortunately, I got some leeway since there are less classes to teach now after Cambridge exams has passed. This is where the fun begins. Not another job hunting. So, wish me luck friends.

[plasmahallucigenia]

passed my STATS class with a 74 goodFUCKINriddance, you know what that means!

KILLING MYSELF POSTPONED!! 🎉🎉🎉

I wish I was joking but holy shit finals week I was goinggggg through ittttt. I wanted to achieve this so bad despite my incredibly poor mathematical skills that I have been struggling with for years, I have always had very horrible understanding of math. but I digress, I have been working my ASS off, now I just need to get a good grade on my art history group project and then BOOM im fuckin done, then the last class I have 2 take is a very easy anthropology class that my irl college mate recommended to me, and holy shit, wonderful professor from what i've heard she makes it easy.

I am gonna spend some time drawing tonight, i've been gone all day and yesterday because I had MULTIPLE doctors appointments and they were drawn at le sighhhh alas I will... continue to work hard...! I want to go to university so bad I want to do what I love I WANT to take actual fucking classes I want to take! I want to learn how to live on my own/with other people,,, Ill do whatever it takes..

I had been so incredibly stressed past couple of days! pure anguish because it was so fucking terrifying that I wasn't gonna pass the class...! to the point that I had inflicted harm on myself because I was genuinely freaking out that night in order to gain control. luckily things are getting better that I am out of that ballpark, I am just very mentally exhausted

had a recent psychiatrist appointment and were going to increase my anti-psychotics so that my mood cycles aren't as rapid.. I hope it helps, also from the doc appointment thanj fucking GOD I don't have diabetes, I am beyond relieved, I have struggled with disordered eating and weight for years along with hypothyroidism that runs in my family its so much... but I hope things will get better

but yas, that is enough of my little ramble, I'm home, im safe im gonna relax for the rest of the night,,,I will pull an espresso shot and enjoy a warm drink, very well...! ^__^

[anonthefold]

Dreams/Nightmares are weird. They are at their weirdest when they are trying to tell you something about yourself but under the guise of an absolutely insane story grounded in reality. I just had an unusual dream where there was some organized event for all of my art specific classmates as adults. Not necessarily all people who had classes together mind you just everyone with involvement of the department during specific years. It was a movie night at someone's rich mansion. There was a room full of adults sprawled across the floor and couches drinking wine and eating pretzels while watching a black and white period film. Although the film was probably not being watched as these little groups of people chatted amongst each other about life and their own journeys that led up to this point. I didn't have examples of the tales because my brain fog is setting in but the tone was similar to everyone having a rough time but generally pleasant. Then, in an event only a scripted story could feasibly write, we got notice that the head of the art department had just passed. Everyone's attention simultaneously turned to me. It was no secret, the head favored me over others. She was ruthlessly unforgiven with assignments for me. She saw potential in me that she didn't see in others. She had me help everyone in this room build their portfolio for college interviews. The eyes waited for me to illicit an emotion of anguish or frustration. The pressure to react made me deflect and walk away from the group. Then there was something about a bus trip to one of her favorite spots and I swear these people were fucking hive mind robots or something. They treated the whole thing like someone who was insane with happiness. I mean like the Joker levels of sinister joy. And on this bus trip they all stood up and reached their arms above their heads as the bus made a sharp turn around a cliff and rolled over off the cliff. There was something else but I started writing this at 3 am and it is 8 now and it is washing away from my thoughts. It was enough to wake me up but feeling exhausted and knowing very well that I need any sleep I can take I tried to force myself back to bed. If anything shakes loose I'll reblog with an update but to be honest I doubt it.

[praeteritus-memories-muses]

Name: Yusuke Kitagawa

Series: Persona 5

Continuity: Base Game / Anime

Age: 18

Height: 5'11"

Birthday: January 28th

Birthplace: Japan

Orientation: Bisexual

Species: Human / Emperor Persona user

Occupation: Student / College student for traditional art

Father: Unknown (deceased)

Mother: "Sayuri" Kitagawa (deceased)

Persona(s): Goemon , Kamo Susano-o

Bio:

As soon as "Sayuri", Yusuke's mother who's name even Yusuke doesn't remember, was pregnant - her and her boyfriend were overjoyed to have a child together as a signal of their love. Unfortunately, Yusuke's father died in a car accident about six months into "Sayuri" 's pregnancy. Devastated and heartbroken, she'd still carry hope within her to go on raising their child alone and that child was Yusuke.

Yet even she didn't last for his mother died when he was 3 years old. She was a pupil under the famous painter Madarame and had created a beautiful self portrait of her holding a baby Yusuke in her arms. Madarame was so obsessed with how perfect that painting was that he relentelssly harassed her to own the rights to the painting that she ended up having a seizure from severe psychological stress. Rather than call the police, Madarame let her die and took off with the painting which left Yusuke an orphan.

With no one to take care of him, as both his parents had no siblings and lost their parents years before Yusuke was born, he'd end up in the foster system for a fairly short time before he managed to come across Madarame and fell in love with the painting of Sayuri. At five years old, he already showed immense talent for art that Madarame saw him as a potential tool to make money off of and adopted him while raising him as his own in a dirty old shack on the outskirts of Shibuya.

Though the Sayuri painting was altered. Madarame painting clouds over where his baby self was as to create a Mona lisa effect with Sayuri to leave people guessing what she was smiling so warmly and lovingly about. The painting became a huge sucsess but Madarame would lie that it was stolen so he could sell copies for it on the black market and pretend it was the real thing to people.

Yet Yusuke knew none of this, he didn't even know that Sayuri was altered or that it was even his mother. As he was so very young when his mother died, he doesn't remember her face anymore. The only thing he can so vaguely remember is maybe her voice saying his name with adoration, but the rest is completely blank in his mind from how many years ago it was.

Though Yusuke was in the dark about how evil Madarame was, he wasn't free from his evil either. He was often starved and had his paintings stolen by Madarame who took them and claimed them as his. He would do this with all his pupils actually, stealing their art and claiming them as his before he'd kick them out or mentally torture them to the point of suicide.

One of them had enough and left, begging Yusuke to come with him. Yet where would he go? He had no one and he was only sixteen, he would've surely been homeless on the streets as an orphan if it wasn't for Madarame housing him and 'caring' for him. His own insecurities telling him that no one or no where could possibly house him as well. He was defensive over Madarame, choosing ignorance over the truth of his evil ways.

Perhaps Yusuke might have died of starvation or mental anguish had it not been for the Phantom Thieves coming in to show him the tragic truth behind the one he once called his master. Yet despite the hurt of the truth and questioning his reality, he embraced the rebellion within him and unleashed his persona for the first time - Goemon.

They managed to get Madarame to confess his crimes and take back the real version of the Sayuri painting. There was still a lot of emotions behind the painting that Yusuke isn't ready to face, mostly grief over the loss of his mother all these years later. Seeing her face in the painting makes him think often of how much she likely wished to live to raise him and how disgusting Madarame was for letting her die like that.

It was enough that Yusuke struggled a lot and went through a deep artist's block. He didn't want to paint for the sake of money like Madarame nor did he want his paintings to feel like someone else's, he wanted inviduality in his work and to expose all of the world. Beauty, pain, desire, love, anguish, etc - all of that he wished to convey in his paintings that it took him a long time and the help of many friends to overcome his artist's blog from everything with Madrame but he's awakened his talent again.

At least Yusuke had a place to live without Madarame there! He was already an honor student in the art department of his school and after hearing about Madarame, Yusuke stays in the dorms free of charge so long as he continues his high grades in the art department which he certainly will. After he graduated high school, he managed to get a scholarship to an art college where he also lives in the dorms free of charge but this time out of love for his beautiful paintings reflecting the true light and dark of the world.

Yusuke is very socially awkward, being a quiet boy throughout his schooling days and sheltered when living with Madarame that he isn't really the best at communication. He speaks elegantly and politely, much like a poet. Though people find his way of speaking like a poet to be weird, he views it as a positive way of being eccentric. He also has a love of beauty and fine aesthetics, anything artistically beautiful and aesthetically pleasing only furthers his love for art and desire to paint something truly gorgeous.