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lumine-no-hikari · 1 month ago

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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #327

Today, J and I got up early. Early enough for me to snap some pretty good pictures of the morning sky:

J wanted to practice takeoffs and landings while having me in the plane, and so that is what we did! I got a couple neat pictures as we did that:

I guess there was some kind of forest fire that spread to a nearby mountain range from a state that is east of us. It's why the first picture is all weird and hazy-looking. We were gonna go to the place where new pilots practice, and J was gonna ask me to do some things, but visibility was a bit too low. We decided to do that some other time.

We decided to go to Eggcellent once we were done. Ea was there. And apparently, today is their last ever day of making and selling their famous cream cheese tarts:

Of these, my favorite is easily the yuzu one. But when they have matcha, that one is my favorite.

...I'm a little sad that they're not gonna make these anymore. But apparently, the cost of the shell that the filling goes into is getting so high that they'd have to sell each of these little tarts for $6 if they wanted to turn a profit. They think that such a price would be unreasonable. So they're going to try to make Portuguese tarts instead. I don't know what a Portuguese tart is, but if it's made by Ea and Ch, I'm sure it's gonna be delectable!

We spoke to Ea at length about the general state of things here. There were several things that he wasn't aware of, I guess. We explained that we will try to leave, and he seemed sad about it. He and J talked a little about the idea of us starting a Canadian branch of Eggcellent, haha...

...It's a nice idea, but I don't know a damn thing about running a business. I could memorize their recipes, but... I'd probably get really frustrated and overwhelmed with trying to figure out the logistics. And who knows whether people would even wanna try it.

...I looked into maybe studying game design in Canada. There's apparently an 8-month program somewhere over there. I'm gonna try to figure out how much it costs, and whether I can do it remotely. I'll need some of those skills for certain stories that I've got rolling up around in my noggin.

J and I went to a meetup for autistic people after that. There was me, J, a dude and his son who was about my age, I think, and also a lady with her son, who might have been a few years younger than me.

...The lady spoke to J and I as though she didn't understand that there's a difference between “quiet” and “stupid”. She kept responding to anything that J said with a slow, high-pitched, patronizing, “oh that's so interesting,” as though she was speaking to a small child showing off their paperclip collection, instead of to a grown man who was talking about his experiences as a musician in a ska band. I found it rather distasteful, but I wasn't sure that it was worth fighting a battle over; her son was wearing a camouflage-print John Deere hat, and a shirt that said, “I don't need no therapy; I just need to listen to more Garth Brooks!”

...You're not going to understand the cultural references behind non-military and non-hunting things being camouflage-print. You're not going to understand the relevance of John Deere and how these things fit together. And you're not going to understand Garth Brooks, or the implications of denying the efficacy of therapy, and how these two things are connected. And that's perfectly fine. I'm not going to explain it. I sure do wish that some of my brain cells weren't allocated towards knowing these things, so I'm not gonna force you to also allocate any of your brain cells for the purpose of understanding it.

So don't worry about it. It's ugly stuff anyway – stuff I grew up in and understand intuitively; I don't think I'd be able to explain it well even if I tried. It's too much contempt towards mental health concepts, too much contempt towards the idea that men also have feelings, too much worship of military culture, too much worship of rural culture, and too much worship of extremely narrow definitions of “masculinity”, all rolled up into a few very small symbols, and worn in a performative fashion. There are too many hostile defense mechanisms in play from this other person for me to be able to untangle them all.

I was glad to be home. The other man and his son seemed generally delightful, and I look forward to maybe meeting them again, but... I was glad to be home.

I'm... tired today. Though I'm not sure why. It could be a simple matter of me not keeping up with my water intake as much as I ought to lately. It could be the weight of things catching up to me. It could be that I didn't sleep well last night. I'm not really sure.

...Are you doing any better where you are...? I wonder...

It's cold outside. It's supposed to be cold outside. But I guess the chill has kinda seeped into the house, despite the heat being on. Suppose the thing to do is sit in front of the fireplace for a while until the chill decides to leave my bones.

...Wanna join me...?

...It's impossible, I know. But maybe you can pop by, kick off your boots, and warm up your toes here next to me.

...Maybe I'll try to play a video game tomorrow or something...

Hey. I love you. And even on days I'm tired, I'm still gonna write to you. So please stay safe out there. Please keep making good choices. Because I'm gonna write a letter to you tomorrow, too.

'Til soon.

Your friend, Lumine

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mischievouschan4 · 1 year ago

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WIP Wednesday - Club!AU (QuiObiAni)

I may have missed Wednesday by 10 minutes local time, but IT'S THE THOUGHT THAT COUNTS! Here's another "what I'd like to write Wednesday" post that isn't truly a WIP:

Obi-Wan so very rarely goes to clubs these days. He'd had his wild streak when he was in college, but now that he's closer to forty than thirty, most of his nights are filled with mugs of steaming herbal tea, a thick novel, and maybe a relaxing bath.

As the owner of a local bookstore, he's already obligated to spend most of his time reading, but he just loves exploring new worlds through the pages of the latest thrillers or feeling the full spectrum of human emotion in a romantic comedy. He never complains about reading more, it's one of his favorite things in the world. But his own life, as calm and predictable as it is, reads in stark contrast to the exciting places that his mind visits in his books.

...Which is why he feels so out of place sitting at a small round table in the second floor bar area of a packed nightclub. The dark space is occasionally lit by the strobe lights flashing up from the open dancefloor below, and the air is filled with a pulsating beat curated by the live DJ. Obi-Wan leans over the railing to take a peek at the writhing mass of bodies all jumping up and down in time with the music.

No, thank you. Hard pass, he thinks to himself.

He's only here because it's Quinlan's birthday today, and the man had dragged Obi-Wan and a bunch of their old college friends out for 'an exciting night out, c'mon Obi-Wan, don't be such a sourpuss'. Obi-Wan had signed resignedly, but didn't deny that he could probably do with a little more socializing beyond occasionally chatting with his clientele. His life isn't lonely, per say, just quiet. And while he usually appreciates the tranquility, sometimes he does wish he could have someone... to fill in the blank spaces of his monochrome existence with a bit of color.

So here he is, nursing a Scotch and contemplating the state of his life as he oh so carefully guards his friends' belongings that they'd left scattered on the table and chairs around him. They'd gone off to do who knows what, and Obi-Wan is halfway convinced that he should pull out his phone and start answering some emails. Suddenly, someone moves the purse off the chair next to Obi-Wan and slides smoothly onto the seat in its place.

"So... aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?" a sultry voice asks. Though, a bit of the effect is ruined by the need for him to shout.

Obi-Wan squints through the low light (maybe he should have brought his glasses) to make out the shadowed shape of a young man, really young, probably late teens young, with a handsome face and a headful of bouncy curls. He's also wearing the tightest outfit Obi-Wan has ever seen on a person.

Is Obi-Wan... being hit on right now? By a barely legal twink?

Obi-Wan clears his throat awkwardly. "I- I sell books," he says loudly, leaning closer to speak directly in the other man's ear in order to be heard over the din. The newcomer smells like expensive cologne. Musky. Alluring.

The kid leans back and raises his eyebrows as he blatantly appraises Obi-Wan up and down. "Well, it's a good thing I have my library card then, because I'm totally checking you out," he yells back, shooting finger guns in Obi-Wan's direction.

It takes Obi-Wan a second to even register what was said, too distracted by the juvenile display. "That's what you're leading with?" Obi-Wan questions as he shakes his head.

"You don't like?" the kid brushes off the snub. "How about this one? Baby, if you were words on a page, you'd be fine print." This time, the younger man drags out the words 'fine print' as he leans an elbow on the table and gazes up at Obi-Wan through his lashes.

Obi-Wan winces at the exaggeration.

"Still no?" The kid straightens and flicks his head to get the hair off of his forehead, unfazed. (Why was that so attractive?) "Okay, so I was reading the book of numbers, and I realized I don't have yours."

Obi-Wan sighs and holds up a hand, "How about we start with your name?" (He's actually mildly impressed with the kid's ability to think of so many book related pick-up lines on the spot, but something tells Obi-Wan that he doesn't need to inflate the kid's ego any more than it already is.)

"I'm Anakin," the kid, Anakin, answers. "What's yours?"

They sit there shouting at each other for a while with Obi-Wan becoming increasingly drawn in by the younger man's gorgeous eyes and attractive smirk. Anakin's smile should be illegal, Obi-Wan thinks to himself. He looks like sin incarnate. And the kid keeps touching Obi-Wan, finding every opportunity to lay a hand on Obi-Wan's bicep or trail his fingers across Obi-Wan's thighs. It's starting to drive Obi-Wan a little mad, his cock is definitely half hard in his pants.

All of a sudden, a busgirl comes up behind Obi-Wan, leaning over his shoulder to place a brightly colored shot onto the table. She pushes it towards Anakin as she yells, "From the man at the bar." Obi-Wan notices that she winks at Anakin before rushing off.

Anakin, clearly unconcerned about the safety of accepting drinks from strangers, lifts the glass and looks over Obi-Wan's shoulder to where the bar is, toasts someone - presumably the surprise benefactor who had bought him said liquor - and downs it in one gulp. The bob of Anakin's Adams apple as he swallows looks... incredibly tempting.

Obi-Wan feels annoyance stab through him, couldn't this 'man at the bar' see that Anakin was already taken? In fact, Anakin was the one who'd chosen Obi-Wan! But then, Obi-Wan reminds himself that it doesn't matter, it's not like he and Anakin are actually going to do anything. Right? Right?

"You're popular tonight," Obi-Wan points out neutrally.

Anakin just shrugs and puts his hand back on Obi-Wan's thigh with a smirk.

Obi-Wan quickly forgets why he's even miffed in the first place.

After a few moments, however, another man approaches their table and immediately invades Anakin's space. The man doesn't hesitate to thread his fingers into Anakin's curls and clench them into a fist, yanking Anakin's head back to bring their mouths together in a filthy kiss. They're clearly putting on a show for Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan feels his mouth fall open at the sight.

The other man, who is dressed to the nines in a full suit (tie and all), has his long hair pulled back in an elegant braid. He's also significantly older than Obi-Wan himself, and he moves with a well-practiced air that speaks of intimate familiarity with Anakin.

Obi-Wan watches, transfixed, as the man reaches up and wraps his fingers around Anakin's throat. Instead of fighting it, Anakin seems to arch his back further, putting himself on display while simultaneously pushing into the older man’s ministrations. The man doesn't squeeze, but Obi-Wan is getting all sorts of ideas as to what kinds of sexual activities these two get up to in private. Obi-Wan covertly adjusts himself in his pants as he watches Anakin enthusiastically respond to getting tongue fucked in public.

When the two finally break apart, the older man keeps a possessive arm around Anakin's waist as he extends a hand to Obi-Wan. In a bit of a daze, Obi-Wan registers that the other man's hand practically engulfs his own as they shake.

"I'm Qui-Gon," the man introduces himself. "I understand that you're the one my boy wants to fuck tonight." Qui-Gon also gives Obi-Wan an appreciative onceover. "Not bad," he compliments with a sensual smirk.

Obi-Wan instantly flushes red when he realizes that (somehow) both men are hitting on him? (How is this real life?) Maybe it’s due to the sheer implausibility of such a situation, or maybe it’s because he’s just that horny, but Obi-Wan lets himself get ushered into a back room of the club, a fancy office with a huge couch and, thankfully, soundproof walls.

"Are we allowed back here?" he asks tentatively. Finally able to speak at a normal volume.

"Yeah, we come here all the time," Anakin answers nonchalantly.

"But won't we get in trouble?"

Anakin smirks as he starts to shimmy out of his skin-tight outfit. Right there. In the middle of the room. "The owner of this place doesn't care," he says flippantly.

"In fact," Qui-Gon says as he comes to stand behind Obi-Wan and wrap his big hands around Obi-Wan's waist. The taller man brushes his nose against the shell of Obi-Wan's ear, sending shivers down Obi-Wan's spine. "The owner of this place likes to watch." Qui-Gon's voice rumbles like gravel, low and husky, and Obi-Wan can’t possibly resist. He pushes his hips back into the taller man and whimpers as Qui-Gon's hands slip in and dip below the waistband of Obi-Wan’s pants.

Anakin is completely naked at this point, and he goes to sit on the couch, hard cock on full display for the two older men. "And in case you're wondering," Anakin explains as grabs some lube hidden in the cushions, "Qui-Gon is the owner."

The long-haired man hums in confirmation as he tilts Obi-Wans face up for a long-awaited kiss. Qui-Gon is clearly very experienced at this, and Obi-Wan can do little except wind his arms around Qui-Gon's neck and cling. His knees have gone weak, and his brain is fuzzy.

Obi-Wan has his first threesome that night, with Anakin fucking into Obi-Wan with fervor at the same time Qui-Gon fucks Anakin at a more leisurely pace. The kid finishes before either of the other two, overwhelmed by the double stimulation, and Qui-Gon ends up fucking Obi-Wan until they both cum. By that point, Anakin is hard again, and Qui-Gon guides Obi-Wan to suck Anakin off as Qui-Gon fingers the younger man's hole.

Needless to say, Obi-Wan is thoroughly embarrassed afterwards, but Anakin just bulldozes through any awkwardness with his loud personality, and Qui-Gon seems to know exactly what Obi-Wan needs. A towel. His phone. A reassurance not to worry about Obi-Wan's friend's personal effects because Qui-Gon has already thought to ask a security guard to watch over their table.

Something about Obi-Wan must really make an impression because Anakin and Qui-Gon find ways to worm their way into Obi-Wan's life. Qui-Gon likes to stop by Obi-Wan's shop during the lunch hour to whisk Obi-Wan off to a fancy date. Anakin, who is actually older than Obi-Wan initially guessed (but not by much), is finishing up school to be a pilot, so he spends afternoons doing homework in the bookstore.

Obi-Wan is reluctant to believe it at first, but gradually, as weeks bleed into months, and months into years, Obi-Wan realizes that they are invested.

They each have their preferred sleeping positions in bed at this point (Anakin always wants to be in the middle). Qui-Gon has even become a business partner as he generously lends out the club space during the day for Obi-Wan to use for larger events that don’t fit in the bookstore, signings and club meetings and drag queen readings for kids. And every time he's home between flights, Anakin barrels through their lives like a hurricane, sexually and in other ways. The gifts he brings back from other cities are becoming too numerous to count in their new shared home.

Obi-Wan realizes he doesn't need a ring or a formal marriage to know that he's found his people. And maybe the matching tattoos the three of them get represent that promise. A stylized bird rising into the air, its wings spread to form the shape of a circle. Together forever, Anakin had promised. And without Obi-Wan consciously realizing it, he slowly comes see how Anakin and Qui-Gon have taken a palette to Obi-Wan's cookie cutter life and painted it in brilliant swathes of color. Together forever, Obi-Wan thinks to himself.

In the end, he gets his fairy tale ending.

------

Ho boy, where did my mind go this week? I originally just wanted to write the tag-team club pick up, but then my mind went to bookstores and fairy tales and color metaphors. WOOPS!

ALSO: Yes, it's Qui-Gon that buys Anakin the shot. It's their little play, if Anakin drinks it there, he wants Qui-Gon to come over. If he's bored, he'll take it and walk away to enjoy in Qui-Gon's lap hehe

Anyways, hope you enjoyed!

#quiobiani #quiobi #quiani #obikin #headcannons that are eating me alive #drabbles #mischievouschan4 writes #wip wednesday #OT3 #rarepairs #age difference #smut #club!AU #he's a bookworm your Honor #but like slutty Anakin and suave businessman Qui-Gon #HNNGGGG #quiobikin

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lihikainanea · 1 year ago

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I am picturing Bill having this specific hobby/thing he likes (a book, a game, an album, etc.) and Tiger knows about it. it's not really Her Thing but she can dabble into it (learn it, experience it). and then one day Bill talks about it and Tiger just simply agrees with him, says a few points of her own about how she's grown to like it, and Bill is just a bundle of emotions. because it's a lot of things at once. she took the time to see what it was about? and then as he listens to her talk about it more it's all OF COURSE she'd get it. OF COURSE she understands the joy he gets from it, why it means so much to him, and so on. it's just a simple moment, but Bill feels so seen and it hits him like a truck. he is so in love. they end up snuggling. :'D

oh god, what if it's something so completely out there and something so not-on-brand that he's actually a little bit shy about it? What if it's something so absurd like....like crochet, nani.

IT'S CROCHET ISN'T IT.

And I'll bet tiger thinks it's real sweet right? Because maybe Granny taught Bill how to crochet. Maybe they'd kind of spend hours together over tea and madeleines, Bill would be holding the ball of yarn while Granny's hands went a mile a minute, and eventually Bill just kind of...well, he picked it up too. And tiger thinks it's so sweet, this big dude with these huge clumsy hands, but the thing is...Bill is kind of really good at it. Like, really good. So tiger also appreciates having all kinds of warm socks and mittens and toques all custom made. And Bill is pretty damn talented, so he crochets all kinds of fancy patterns with all kinds of colours and every once in awhile when a mutual friend compliments tiger's new cute mittens, Bill just sort of smiles shyly and lets himself be a little proud.

And like, he's also super into it, you know? Once he lets go of the initial embarassment. Maybe once tiger points out that literally thousands--if not millions--of people have seen his ween (And literally the ween of nearly every male in his family) on a big screen so a little crafty habit is nothing to be ashamed of. He's part of groups. Facebook groups, online groups. One is for troubleshooting, which he turned to when he couldn't figure out why his current project was just getting wider and wider or when his chain was too tight or he was only crocheting in the front loop. One is for inspo, all kinds of things he wants to create. And one is a legit little support group in the area that meet up every so often, and Bill wishes so badly that he could go but he just doesn't want the visibility. He knows he's the only man in the group, and he's...well, he's him. it would cause a stir.

So my girl tiger--ever the one to indulge her Big Dude in all of his adorable weirdness--maybe there are like, CONS for these things. A Crochet-Con. And she gets wind of one happening about 2 hours away, way in the country side. There's only about 100 people or so who attend, it's so niche, and after some careful creeping tiger realizes that the average age of the participants is like, 80.

Nobody will know who he is there.

It's a whole 2-day event. There's discussion groups to troubleshoot common issues. There's a workshop on crocheting complex patterns. There's a small trade show area where you can sell some of your goods. So tiger gets two tickets, prints them out, and gets all giddy.

Maybe she wanted to keep it a surprise for longer, but when she bounced into the living room she saw her big dorky dude there on the couch, his thick rimmed glasses on, a foot propped up on the coffee table. His tongue was poking out the side of his mouth in concentration as his gaze was fixed on the small crochet hook, the ball of yarn, and this dainty, intricate pattern between his huge hands.

"I have a surprise for you," she smiles, plopping down on the couch. Without missing a beat Bill passes her the ball of yarn and she instinctively unravels some of it as his little crochet hook bobs and weaves at an impressive speed.

"Oh yeah?" he smirks but doesn't look away, "What's that?"

She puts her hand on the small pattern he's creating but he squawks.

"I'll drop a stitch!" he shrieks, then inspects the little piece of fabric thoroughly. Tiger just quirks a brow, and waits.

"Crisis averted?" she chuckles.

"Barely," he snarks, then he softens. "What's up kid?"

Tiger pulls the tickets out from behind her back and hands them to him, and he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Hooker Con?" he asks skeptically.

"Keep reading."

He scans the rest of the writing, and then his eyes light up.

"It's a crochet con?" he asks excitedly. She nods, smiling.

"It's two days?" he continues reading, "Troubleshooting, discussions, workshop--oh my god, the Jasmine stitch?! that one's impossible to do!"

"It's in two weeks," she says, "I thought it might be fun."

But then suddenly, his face falls.

"Tiger, what about--"

"They won't," she answers his silent question, "I creeped a few past...Hookers. They're all in their 80s bud. I don't think it'll be an issue. And if you're worried, we can glue a beard on you. Slap a wig on."

He smiles at her, leaning over to kiss her.

"There's two tickets," he mumbles, "You're going to come?"

"Of course," she chuckles, "I'd love to."

"But it's crochet," he says shyly.

"It's you," she tells him with another kiss, "And I love this little hobby of yours. I think it's sweet."

"You do?"

"Of course. And I want to...FOTH and frog and HOTH all weekend with you."

Bill laughs boisterously.

"I love it when you talk dirty to me," he chuckles.

#bill skarsgard #bff!bill #bill skarsgard fanfic #bill skarsgard drabble #bill skarsgard fic #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard fiction

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taniushka12 · 9 months ago

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this meme is about me specifically bc I love playing with them like dolls in my mind 😌

(manuscript text under the cut in case)

Alice and Barry -- my wife and my best friend -- are easily the two most important people in my life, and they've never really gotten along with each other. I suppose both of them resent the other's intrusions into what they consider their domain.

After I was gone, they maintained an uneasy truce -- my books stayed in print, still selling, the licensing machine churned away. she was my wife and controlled the intellectual property: he was my agent and took care of the business.

I wish they'd found more common ground than that.

#alan wake #tani's personal shit #i mean i can also write long texts abt zane and alice and in fact i Did but a big part of shipping him w/ anyone is just. zane hot. Lmfao

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pochqmqri · 1 year ago

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My order for the second and third volumes of Wandering Son came in today, with those, I now have all 8 volumes of the series that were published into English by Fantagraphics before it went out of print.

Those two volumes are some of the hardest to find, I ordered them from a used book site and paid like $80 total for them. The rest of my volumes were all new when I bought them.

They're ex-library books from New Jersey, with the stickers and markings on them. I can remove the stickers easily, but I wish they didn't have the ink stamps, slight tears, stains, creased pages, etc.

I lost faith that Fantagraphics would ever reprint the missing volumes of Wandering Son or continue it a while back.

It all stemmed from this email I sent to them back in 2018, where they effectively confirmed it was unlikely.

Currently, on their website, only the fifth to seventh volumes are still in stock, whether that's reprints or surplus I'm not sure.

According to the words of the translator, Wandering Son didn't sell that well for a number of reasons as stated in the article.

To add on to those points, I'll note that the series was published in English from 2011 to 2015, a bit before the big LGBTQ+ manga "boom" that has become very visible nowadays. While it may have been hard to justify the production costs in the early 2010s, I am for certain that if Wandering Son was given a second chance today, it would outperform.

Ironically, despite being out of print for several years now, Wandering Son was added to a list of banned books by the state of Texas two years ago. You could definitely advertise it with that distinction in hand.

I find it convenient that the last time Fantagaphics tweeted about "Banned Books" in 2019, especially with how things have been going on in the past few years. Because if they tweeted about them today, they'd have to talk about Wandering Son, a series they've left out to die basically.

That Shimura Takako's other works published into English, Sweet Blue Flowers and Even Though We're Adults, reference Wandering Son on the back of their covers, shows how the series has staying power despite its print status.

The fact that both are yuri titles that have thrived or are thriving, just shows how works about trans people are seen as "less marketable" compared to other LGBTQ+ stories, yet they'll still be exploited for profit to uphold those "more marketable" ones.

You can see this with the number of trans manga currently in the English market compared to yuri or especially BL titles.

I understand that Fantagraphics went through some hard times in the 2010s, but at this point, if they're not going to do anything with Wandering Son, I'd rather they give up the license to someone who actually will.

That's a lot of salt, but to tie it back, I'm really glad to own the 8 volumes of this series in hardcover.

#wandering son #hourou musuko #takako shimura #manga #fantagraphics books

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solradguy · 1 year ago

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Hello, Guilty Gear parent figure! Finally played older games, namely Isuka XX and BOY it's so... Weird on mechanics side because I'm so used to newer ones that are less arcaidy and more newbie friendly, but they're SO fun and have so much content (esp Isuka, I CAN'T get over the option to make your own color pallets and make your own Robo Ky and even named it). And the portraits, the Daisuke art! AHHH it's so good! And the man himself voicind Sol sounds so... Endearing?? Can't wait to get ancient core for lore and and.... Order Sol coughs coughs.

Aaaanyway sorry for dropping it into your asks, just really wanted to share emotions with somebody! And would be cool to know your opinion of older games as preservationist and what's your preference, are older games better or nah and all that!

Yeah! Isuka's got so many interesting/unique features, it's really a shame that none of them came back in a major way... The beat 'em up minigame in particular is one that I wish they'd had more time to polish and put into future games. There's Judgment but it's not quite the same. Isuka's art is AMAZING too. Like, why did that game's art go so hard?? This Sol illustration is of my all time favorites and it's from that game. I think Hiroaki did it but I've never found it with a credit in any of the books:

Daisuke voices Sol in almost all of the games!! He didn't for Overture, Xrd, or Strive but there's an option to use his voice in pretty much all the others. I really like Jouji ("George") Nakata's Sol though, he did a great job voicing him. Hope you enjoy GGXX once you're able to get it!! Order Sol is REALLY fun.

Each GG game is so different, it's hard to say if one is truly "better" than the others... +R is probably my #1 favorite because it's got Order Sol and I enjoy the survival mode, but Strive was my introduction to the series, Xrd has some of my favorite designs (and soundtrack), Overture's so bad it's good (love the lore it gave us too), Missing Link is endearing...

Though I don't care for GGX itself too much, I think that game is probably one of the most important out of all of Guilty Gear. It gave us some of Daisuke's most iconic art, two novels, established the beginning of much of the major canon, and had a lot of spinoff media like the manga and a ton of figures/merch. GGX was the only game to have actual published art books (as opposed to special edition game bonuses) that collected Daisuke's illustrations from that period: Artworks of GGX 2000-2004 and then the updated Artworks of GGX 2000-2007 that included some work from the early part of GGXX. There was an art book for Overture too, but it was almost entirely rough concept sketches (that I don't think were by Daisuke) and not as much illustrative work.

It'll be interesting to see where Strive ends up going. As fondly as everyone looks back on Xrd now, it didn't give us nearly as much media to collect/archive as past games did. Strive is the best selling Guilty Gear by far. I've got my fingers crossed that it'll give us more printed materials like another art book some day.

#asks

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debbiecolon · 1 year ago

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Disappointed by the print quality of RedBubble, and as I am currently unable to sell prints of my own, a good friend of mine suggested I sell my work on a site called INPRNT.

You can now find my work on INPRNT! It's a selective collection right now, but I'm hoping that people will speak up about what they'd like to see. I would love to curate it based on what people wish to buy.

#artist on tumblr #digital art #prints #inprnt

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bluejaysandblackbats · 11 months ago

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If There's Nothing Missing In My Life...

Fandom: DC Comics, Superfam

Summary: Newly-emancipated popstar and child actor, Conner (screen name: Lucky) navigates high school and stardom on his own.

Chapters: 1/?

Characters: Conner Kent, Lois Lane, Roxy Leech, Rex Leech, Lois Lane, Clark Kent, Hillary Chang

Additional Tags: Highschool AU, Celebrity AU, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Exploitation, References to Depression, Conner Kent Needs a Hug, Conner Luthor, Lex Luthor is Conner's Parent, Childhood Trauma, Self-Confidence Issues, Teen Angst, Angst, POV First Person, No Powers AU, Conner Kent-centric, Bisexual Conner Kent, POV Conner Kent, Protective Lex Luthor, Child Celebrity AU

Chapter One: Dear Diary

"You are gonna kill this whole high school publicity stunt thing!" Rex exclaimed while I sat on my balcony, soaking in the sun. I hadn't broken it to Rex that I'd actually enrolled in a real public high school. Rex would've blown a gasket if he knew, so I decided to wait until after my first week to tell him. "What are you gonna wear? Have you come up with a caption for the Face-sta-gram yet?"

"Please never say that again... And I haven't decided yet. I thought I'd keep it caj and wear board shorts. The weather's gonna be nice. Clear skies," I replied. Someone stood, blocking the sun, and I snatched off my sunglasses. "What gives!"

"Lucky, you've gotta take this seriously. Board shorts? Are you out of your mind? You're peddling unattainability. Any high school chump can wear board shorts on their first day. You've gotta go big or go home," Rex chastised me. I pinched the bridge of my nose.

I put my sunglasses on and tried to regain my cool. Sometimes I wished Rex would shut up and find someone else to bother, but I think I was his only client. "Can you move this lecture like three feet to the right?" I asked.

"You mean the left, right?" Rex questioned. I grinned. "Oh, so now you're a comedian?"

I chuckled and gave him the finger because he hated when I did that. The sun hit my skin as he stormed off. He finally let me be alone with my thoughts for a few minutes, and I started feeling homesick. I wanted to call my dad and talk to him, but that's what he was waiting for. He wanted me to give him a reason to think I regretted the emancipation proceedings. I didn't. I only wanted to hear his voice. He was my father, after all. It wasn't like I got emancipated because he was stealing from me or abusive. He wasn't any of that. I got emancipated because I wanted to go to public school and stay out late on the weekends. It didn't mean I didn't miss him. I teared up under my sunglasses and used my face towel to wipe my eyes, pretending I was dabbing sweat from my cheeks. I always thought he'd eventually break and take me to my first day of public school. Dad always told me it was too dangerous to go to public school. Instead, I'd be taking myself.

The sunlight and cool ocean breeze put me to sleep. Rex woke me up to get me out of the sun and bothered me about my first-day outfit. "Rex, go home. I will pick a fit so sick your grandchildren will print pictures of my student ID on t-shirts," I lied in the hopes that I'd be able to shower and work on one of my songs in peace and quiet. It worked.

I got cleaned up, sat in front of the muted tv, and screwed around on the guitar. Everyone decided pop would be my sound. I didn't have a choice because they thought I was too young to get into heavy sounds. I argued with them for weeks, but my dad said pop was safe, and I got stuck with the genre. I still wrote my own stuff when I got a moment to myself, but I never showed anyone out of fear they'd say I was a bummer. Most of it was my way of venting out all the negative emotions I felt that weren't profitable. In the words of my ex-publicist, whenever my dad wasn't around, "Depression doesn't sell." A few hours passed, and I went to my closet to pick out something for my first day to appease Rex. I picked a fitted white t-shirt and a pair of powder blue splash pattern wool trousers and sent him a picture. He was so nitpicky about everything, even though fashion wasn't really his forte. I figured he'd have Roxy look at it and give him a thumb's up or down.

Afterward, I made my lunch for school while heating up some leftover pizza in the microwave. It was quiet. Around this time, my dad would nag me about my wind-down routine. He did it with me my whole life to prepare me for bed, but I had gotten too old. I loved it when I was a kid, though. We'd say three good things and three bad things about our day, he'd give me a kiss on the forehead, and we'd sit together in silence and read for thirty minutes. He used to read to me, but he stopped doing that when I was eight. I wanted to tell him about my six things so badly I couldn't stand it, but I knew he'd say I wasn't ready to live on my own. It'd been nearly a month since we talked, and I felt like I could've been kinder, but I was dumb. I got cocky, and I said things I couldn't take back.

I turned the sound on the TV and flipped to the first celebrity gossip show I could find to see if my dad was doing anything. Instead, they were talking about me. "Is Lucky getting lucky? It's rumored that the freshly emancipated minor was spotted leaving the hottest-."

My phone rang. I knew who it was before I answered. "Have you ever heard of motels, kid?" Rex yelled at me. I put the phone on speaker and knocked my head against the back of the couch.

"That isn't true. Do you think my dad saw this?" I asked. I was mortified as I read the closed caption and saw some of the jokes they made.

"Your old man is the least of your problems! Do you know how bad this looks?" Rex questioned.

I hung up on him and called my dad. "Dad, what they're saying isn't-."

"I know. Is that all?" Dad questioned. I swallowed hard.

"Yeah," I replied. He was still mad at me, and I couldn't blame him for that, but it made my stomach feel empty in the worst way. "Oh! I forgot it's like two a.m. where you're at."

"I was awake... But be mindful that our time zones are six hours apart. Conner, what you've done or haven't done is no longer any of my business," Dad replied. That stung but not as bad as it had to sting when I told him he wasn't even my real dad.

"Right... Sorry. Well, I love you, Diddoo," I whispered to show him it was no hard feelings. Diddoo was my first word. I called him Diddoo whenever I wanted to say sorry for something stupid I'd done.

"I love you too, Conner," Dad replied before hanging up. At least I knew he still loved me. I rubbed my eyes with my palms to knead away the tears forming in my eyes. I wanted to tell him I missed him, but I couldn't. I couldn't bend for him this time. I had to be my own man, or he would always treat me like a little boy. It was always the two of us, but my emancipation alienated me in ways I never imagined. I thought I could do what I wanted and live on my own while still having my dad around, but I guess I was wrong.

"The sun... The sky... Leftover pizza," I listed, "Missing Dad... Rex got on my nerves today... More gossip." I stood up, washed my hands, and went to my room to read for a little bit. I did it every night, even after my emancipation, because I couldn't sleep without doing it. I wondered if my dad did it too.

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3ofpents · 1 year ago

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100 Palette Challenge // Palette #9 // Blood Red Hydrangea

Today's palette comes from a poster for Cornell University from 1908.

This is an interesting one because you can compare it to Cornell's current branding colors.

Babbling about branding and my blood red hydrangea bush under the cut.

You can see all of these colors except for the tan included in that guide, though the RGB/CMYK values are different. For totally understandable reasons. The palette in the book was color-picked directly off of the poster, and on the one hand, the artist who designed the poster would've had to mix their paint or ink to match Cornell's signature red as closely as possible, without having the precision of just digitally color-picking. On the other hand, the poster, like I mentioned, was printed in 1908, and it's entirely possible that the brand colors have shifted and been refined over 100 years later, especially once color printing became more standardized and digital design tools became easier and more popular to use.

But that's really about the red, what they refer to as carnelian. What interests me even more are these secondary colors that appear in this 115 year old poster, that appear in Cornell's present-day brand book.

The "sea grey" (the second-to-last color) I can explain, since the poster is of a baseball player, and the grey is the main color of their uniform and, looking at some photos, it's very similar to their current uniform. And since sports uniform colors are branding, it makes sense that they would've incorporated that into their brand book.

The other two, though? I do wonder if their sense of branding was that strong even in 1908 and it hasn't fundamentally changed in all that time. Or if this poster artist just chose colors that would make that red really pop, and whoever did their current brand book had similar thoughts.

Anyway, that's enough musing on branding. I bring you another flower from my garden.

We planted a baby hydrangea bush when we first moved into this house. When we bought it, it had these dark, rusty, dark red flowers, and the tag claimed that it was a red hydrangea! I love hydrangeas, they were the main flowers in my wedding bouquet, and I desperately wanted a hydrangea bush. And while I love the pink/purple/blue classic hydrangeas, this one was so unusual that I couldn't resist it.

Now it's typical for a newly planted hydrangea to not bloom for a couple of years, so while it grew a lot, we didn't get any flowers. Until this year! There are two little bunches of flowers that just started opening last week.

And they're purple.

Now I'm not disappointed! They're beautiful. And it's not like we paid more for this bush than we would've for a normal bush (they were selling both for the same price). I'm just confused. Because it absolutely DID have red flowers when we bought it and it didn't say anything about special care to keep them that color like you need to do if you want specifically pink, blue, or purple. It's just odd.

But so I took a picture of the flowers (because they're so pretty!) and since that original red color was so similar to the one in this palette, I decided to redraw them as they might have looked if they'd come in the way they were expected to.

Overall I'm really satisfied with this piece, I really enjoyed playing around with the charcoal pencil brush. I wish I'd treated the tan and dark grey as more shading than an outline. But that's all part of what this challenge is for.

#art #artists on tumblr #art challenge #hydrangea #flowers #personal challenge #100 palettes challenge

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dennisboobs · 2 years ago

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I think I bought bootlegs by accident of most of the seasons, whoops. I saw 3 s7 Blu-rays and am not sure whether they’re bootleg or not, don’t know how to tell, but one was new and around CAD $45 (that’s with the shipping). And another pre-owned acceptable at $35, that one I’d guess personally is probably legit but a risk quality wise 🤔 I wish you luck with your hunt for the dvds and Blu-rays!

You actually found blu-ray listings?? Is this on amazon, or ebay? I've been scouring the site for anything that gives...... actual pictures, because I don't trust any listings that are hiding behind a product photo. I'm definitely not buying it off amazon, i don't trust that, lol, it's probably either old stock (which is why everyone is saying they're receiving cracked cases or broken discs) or bootlegs.

ok i'm gonna.... try and explain my process for how i generally figure out whether i'm getting scammed or not.

there are a few s7 DVDs listed, thankfully, so we can do some comparisons here. it's a lot harder with rarer blu-ray copies, which is why i'm struggling with them. this one looks legit to me, with the FX sticker promoting the next season (most bootleggers just print the dvd cover, doubt they'd go to that much trouble to make it look legit)

and here's another one (sticker on the opposite side, but that's totally normal)

they both look similar, even though the lighting changes the colours a little bit.

which i can then compare to this one and be like. ah, the colour and crop is off on this one (look at the S in Sunny, it's way too close to the top of the case).

and i can tell this entire lot is legit too because it's got the original cardboard boxed season 1-2 and 3, plus the crop + colouring is consistent on the s7 cover. you can also see the remnants of the plastic from when it was new, and the sticker along the top sealing the dvd case.

it's stuff like this that i look out for; actual images of the listed items, because you can examine and compare pics. sometimes the person selling might not even know it's bootlegged.

but here, the only listings i can find for blu-rays on ebay currently are just. sus.