#it is INSANE how the brush i use impacts my art style

[wallbang-buzzkill]

CoD MW2 drawings to stay loose

[zur1s]

writing anything about vagabond is genuinely so insanely tough because, vagabond is just so intimate with its character writing. more so, just the general handling of the whole story. each and every chapter is hand crafted with a care inoue adds in every brush stroke or text bubble. its simple yet intricate, every illustration⸺changing and shifting with the washing tides of vagabond's storyline. the art style is unmatchable, the arcs, beautifully gory just as they need to be. the ripple of a lake, the slash of the blade, a rare smile amongst the lonely woods. vagabond can be small and intimate, then explosive and physical. a blade can be something to admire, to compare to the mastery of a samurai⸺then stripped to an item to kill. vagabond is so simple, the chapters in the life of a man and the fight against death. there's something so supernatural the way musashi has avoided death for years, but each and every piece to his survival falls in so right. to become invincible under the sun, a statement that twists and turns as musashi evolves. it holds weight, but by the end it's simply a wish of a much more younger man. things change, and change, then comes the spell of regret. but the morning sun comes up and the world will never wait, so comes dawn on kokura.

vagabond is filled with spiritual themes and intense writing that is new as it is antique. inoue knows how to use his art to improve every plot point and he knows how to write a story as impactful as his art. it's no wonder vagabond has been on hiatus for nearly a decade. this tale of the samurai musashi miyamoto is dear, beautiful, intimate, thoughtful, deadly, visceral, but most importantly, breathtaking.

when writing my thoughts down about a series, i look at the media and take a grasp at the things it tries to say, to communicate, maybe. i take my soul and ask it what has this done? and how badly has it ruined me? but when writing about vagabond, i simply can't begin to start about the beauty in this story and how much it has left me with. when i try to recollect the chronicles of this lone ronin from miyamoto village, i get lost in thoughts and pieces of it that i can barely connect. i lose so easily to this legend, from a long far off land, many, many moons ago. every arc, chapter, and even page, holds more things to unpack and rethink. it's so hard to understand in full the epic that is vagabond, to make sense of the winding brush strokes that inoue places⸺as messy as the life of these dear children of twenty-eight years old. when shounen mainstays like jjk or kny have a collection of themes you can pick apart and savor, vagabond has a ballad unreadable but ever so beautiful. how i want to understand it.

[velvet-vox]

The dark side of Steampunk: Nox (Part 1)

There is this video made by the Youtuber schnee about Hazbin Hotel, and how its grimsical art style serves the purpose of forming the setting and dictating every writing decision through the usage of its thematic connotations.

It's a pretty interesting video to watch if you are a fan of that series, but I'm not here to talk about that.

No, I'm here to talk about a specific part of that video.

There's a certain timestamp in the video where schnee all of a sudden starts to talk about a movie named "Aeronauts", and how it perfectly nails the Steampunk aesthetic through its understanding of the themes of Steampunk and the historic/social connotations of his it's existence. Here:

For the purposes of his argument, schnee explains to us what Steampunk is all about and compares it to grim dark. While this was fascinating and all, after I've learned the meaning behind the Steampunk aesthetic I couldn't help to think about Noximilliem Coxen the Watchmaker from Wakfu, and how the show writers and character designers twisted the positive vibes of the style to create a more impactful and terrifying antagonist that swims confidently in his own aesthetic.

Today, I'm going to break down how Nox's story uses and twists the meaning of Steampunk to help him stand out.

There's going to be multiple parts to this analysis, so expect me to add their link in the future, but for now, I'm going to focus my attention entirely on the OVA episode and I'll tackle the main series at a later date.

The OVA:

Noximilien is a brilliant inventor specialized in the creation of clocks. His over excitement at the prospect of being the one to find the next big thing is very reminiscent of the classic Victorian scientist present in many stories, usually on the protagonist's side: at the start of his character arc, Milien is the embodiment of the optimism native of the XIX century from which Steampunk stories often take place.

Characterised by the industrial boom, Steampunk (Nox) seeks out to revolutionise the rigid lifestyle of the Victorian era through the wonders of machinery and science. This right here seems like the classic setup for any story of the genre, surely it can't vary more than this?

Unfortunately for our Watchmaker, this is the part where another genre of storytelling is introduced into the mix: the Eldritch horror.

Stories of Eldritch Horror are often characterised by the fear of the unknown: humans going insane trying to understand things that were never intended to be understood, some light ho######ia and ra###m sprinkled here and there, but you can't blame Lovecraft for being a bigot when he was so much worse than that.

Nox finds a mysterious object coming from outer space, it acts weird and suspicious, and he can't understand it, so he takes it back home where he can study it. (I don't know what the bubbles emitted from the cube and the following psychosis are meant to entail, but I think it's up to interpretation).

Immediately, Milien sees the cube as an exciting new discovery, already picking apart its effects on his clock and quickly brushing aside how it affected Igôle. It's honestly not that uncommon in stories of this genre, the inventor tends to be pretty self centered and not particularly emotionally intelligent, it's a flaw that tends to go undeveloped, but it's usually never a problem for these people (Unless they are the villain 🌚).

But here, it's where unfortunately the rift between his family and his desires starts to form: at the beginning of the episode, Galanthe was nothing but supportive of her husband's passion for his inventions and the future, but here, when she asks her husband to let go of his current hyper fixation, she, quite literally, puts a stop to the Industrial dream, one of the cores of this genre; basically rejecting Nox himself, whose the personification of Steampunk.

Naturally, Milien is at fault here, he shouldn't be taking her response too dramatically, but this is going to be the base to his later turn towards the obsession.

While we're here, I might as well mention the beggar and the puppet show.

They're not all that important to Noximilien's character arc (aside from the money problem giving him a ticking clock to all of his actions🌚🌚), but they do provide important pieces of character building and themes for our analysis, so I'm going to briefly touch on them.

The beggar and the puppet show serve to better establish and build up our Steampunk narrative before it can later be destroyed by the Eliacube.

The beggar, is our representation of society. More specifically, Victorian society. He's naturally unimpressed by Milien's creativity and ingenuity, and only seeks to get his part of the bargain. He's strict, rigid, and he's clearly intended to be the obstacle in this situation.

The conflict between the beggar and Milien parallels the conflict between the Victorian society and the positivity of modern science; said tension is the bread and butter of Steampunk and the reason why this aesthetic gained so much popularity in the first place.

The puppet show, created by our inventor, is, again, another establishing piece for our setting, it's the original direction Nox's character was supposed to take, becoming someone who uses their brilliance and generosity to better the world and brighten their family's lives.

If only Milien stayed in bed that night instead of going to temper with the Eliacube, who knows what could have happened.

Maybe, he wouldn't have found the Cube to be all that shiny when he woke up the next morning......

Next part>>>>

Want more Wakfu analyses? Give your vote here.

[mya-valentine]

Unveiling the Technique: Juri’s Taekwondo Legacy

Synopsis: Itadori, intrigued by Juri’s swift and precise fighting style, seizes a rare break to ask her about it. Juri reveals she combines taekwondo with her cursed techniques, emphasizing speed, precision, and power. Despite her harsh demeanor, she agrees to teach him the basics. As they train, Juri's past with taekwondo surfaces, revealing its deep personal significance. Gojo, noticing Juri’s hidden vulnerability, gently probes her feelings, but she remains guarded. Through the lessons, Itadori begins to understand Juri's complex relationship with her fighting style, and Gojo reflects on the impact of teaching on both Juri and Itadori.

Itadori had always been curious about Juri's fighting style. He'd seen her in action more than once, but each time, it was over so fast that it left him wondering how exactly she combined her cursed techniques with physical combat. Her speed was something else—one moment she was standing still, and the next, she was a blur of motion, kicking her opponents with lethal precision and grace. It wasn't just brute strength either. There was a clear method to her movements, something beyond just raw power.

One day, during a rare lull between missions, Itadori decided to ask her about it. They were in the middle of a break from their usual grueling training sessions, sitting in the shade outside. Juri, leaning against a tree with her arms crossed, looked as unapproachable as ever, but Itadori had grown used to her tough exterior.

"Hey, Juri," Itadori began, wiping the sweat from his brow, "I've been wondering... How do you mix your cursed technique with your fighting? Like, I know you're insanely fast and strong, but it’s not just that, right? It’s like there’s a whole style to it. How do you move like that?"

Juri cracked open one eye, glancing at him with mild interest. "You really wanna know?" she asked, her voice laced with sarcasm, but there was a glimmer of something in her gaze—maybe amusement, maybe the slightest hint of approval that he was asking a serious question.

Itadori nodded eagerly. "Yeah! I mean, you’re obviously amazing at it. It’d be great to learn a bit more about how you fight."

Juri sighed and stood up, brushing the dirt off her pants. She stretched out her arms, cracking her neck, and turned to face him, that ever-present smirk tugging at her lips. "I mix taekwondo with my cursed technique. It’s all about speed, precision, and power. Every hit counts. And when you combine that with lightning-fast movements and cursed energy, you get what you’ve seen me do."

"Taekwondo?" Itadori repeated, eyes widening. "That’s martial arts, right? I guess I’ve never really thought about learning that kind of stuff. You always make it look so effortless."

Juri let out a short laugh. "Effortless? It took years to get to where I am, dumbass. But I guess you wouldn’t know that, seeing as you rely more on brute strength than actual technique."

Itadori rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, I kind of just... hit things. But maybe if I learned a bit of what you do, I could improve. Could you show me?"

Juri arched an eyebrow, sizing him up for a moment. "You wanna learn taekwondo?" she repeated, a skeptical edge to her voice.

"Yeah! I mean, I probably won’t be as good as you, but I think it could help me get better in fights."

There was a beat of silence as Juri stared at him. Then, without warning, she smirked and dropped into a low stance, one leg extended behind her and the other in front. "Alright, I’ll teach you some basics. But if you embarrass yourself, don’t expect me to go easy on you."

Itadori swallowed, excitement bubbling up despite the warning. "Got it! I’m ready!"

"First things first," Juri said, her tone serious now, "taekwondo is all about kicking. It’s about using your legs to their full potential. Speed, power, precision—all of it comes from your lower body. The trick is to stay balanced, keep your guard up, and move fast enough that your opponent can’t predict what you’re gonna do next."

She demonstrated a few kicks, her movements swift and fluid. Her leg cut through the air with a sharp whoosh, and Itadori could practically feel the impact her kicks would deliver. There was a deadly grace to how she moved, as if each strike was measured and perfect.

"Whoa..." Itadori muttered, clearly impressed. "That’s insane."

Juri rolled her eyes. "Pay attention, dumbass. This isn’t a show. You wanna learn or not?"

"Right, right! Sorry!" Itadori said, quickly getting into a stance that somewhat mimicked hers.

Juri walked over to him, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized his posture. "Too stiff. Relax your shoulders. Your legs need to be further apart—you’re too closed off. If someone sweeps you from the side, you’ll fall over like a tree."

Itadori adjusted, following her instructions as best he could. "Like this?"

"Better," she said, circling him like a hawk eyeing prey. "Now, try this kick. It’s a basic roundhouse. You lift your leg and twist your hips for momentum. The power comes from the rotation, not from just swinging your leg. Watch."

She stepped back and demonstrated again, this time slower so he could see the full motion. Her left eye glowed faintly, purple energy pulsing through her body as she performed the kick, but she held back from unleashing the full power.

Itadori nodded, trying to mimic her movements. He lifted his leg, twisted his hips, and swung his foot around, but it was clumsy—he stumbled slightly, and his balance was all wrong.

Juri groaned. "Pathetic. Do it again. Focus on your core and keep your balance. You’re swinging like a baseball bat."

Itadori grimaced but tried again. His second attempt was slightly better, but Juri wasn’t impressed.

"Still wrong. You’re too focused on the kick itself. It’s about control, not just throwing your leg around like a hammer. Again."

He tried once more, this time focusing more on his balance and the twist in his hips. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a noticeable improvement.

Juri crossed her arms and gave a short nod. "Alright, not bad. Now imagine adding cursed energy to that. You move fast enough, hit hard enough, and your opponent won’t even see it coming. But don’t get cocky just because you managed to get one half-decent kick. You’ve still got a long way to go."

Itadori grinned, wiping sweat from his brow. "Thanks, Juri! I feel like I’m starting to get it."

Juri scoffed, stepping back and shaking her head. "You’re miles away from getting it, but at least you’re not as hopeless as I thought. Keep practicing, and maybe you’ll be worth something in a fight."

Despite her harsh words, Itadori could sense that Juri wasn’t completely displeased. There was something about her that enjoyed teaching him, even if she’d never admit it. Her fighting style was deadly and fast, something he hoped to learn from—and maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to keep up with her someday.

Itadori burst into Gojo’s office one afternoon, grinning from ear to ear, practically radiating excitement. He was still covered in sweat from training, but that didn’t stop him from bouncing on his heels as he waved enthusiastically at his teacher.

“Gojo-sensei! You’ll never believe it!” Itadori exclaimed, his voice filled with eager energy. “Juri’s teaching me taekwondo! Like, actual moves and everything! Isn’t that crazy?”

Gojo, who had been lounging in his chair with his feet up on the desk, lazily shifted his head toward Itadori. Behind his blindfold, his eyes flickered with surprise, though he masked it quickly with his usual carefree demeanor. Taekwondo? Juri was teaching Itadori taekwondo? That was… unexpected.

“Taekwondo, huh?” Gojo said, sitting up a little and tilting his head. “That’s pretty cool, Yuji. I didn’t think Juri would bother showing you something like that. Must mean you’re getting better!”

“Right?!” Itadori nodded enthusiastically, practically glowing. “I mean, she’s really harsh about it, but I can already feel myself improving. Her kicks are insane, and she’s so fast! It’s like she’s barely trying, but her movements are so precise. She said it’s all about balance and control. It’s amazing.”

Gojo chuckled, his relaxed smile not betraying the surprise still lingering in the back of his mind. He gave Itadori a playful pat on the back. “Well, keep at it, Yuji. If Juri’s teaching you, then you’re learning from one of the best. Just… don’t get too ahead of yourself. She’ll probably break you before you can master any of those moves.”

Itadori laughed sheepishly, rubbing his neck. “Yeah, she’s not exactly the nurturing type, but I’ll survive! Thanks, Gojo-sensei!”

As Itadori bounded out of the room, Gojo’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a more thoughtful expression. He hadn’t expected Juri to share something like taekwondo with anyone, let alone a student like Itadori. It wasn’t that Juri couldn’t teach—she was a natural at fighting and training others—but taekwondo was different for her. It wasn’t just a skill or a technique; it was something deeply personal. Something that had defined her for years before everything had changed.

Later that evening, Gojo found Juri in her usual spot outside, leaning against a tree as the sunset bathed the courtyard in a soft, golden light. She was staring off into the distance, her expression unreadable as always, but Gojo could tell there was something beneath the surface—something she was trying to keep hidden.

He approached her casually, hands in his pockets, but his tone was softer than usual when he spoke. “So, Yuji tells me you’ve been teaching him taekwondo. That’s… not something I expected.”

Juri didn’t look at him, keeping her gaze fixed on the horizon. “He asked. Figured it was better than watching him flail around like an idiot all the time. He needed some real discipline.”

Gojo nodded, though he didn’t miss the slight edge in her voice. “It’s just… I know taekwondo isn’t just fighting for you. It’s more than that.”

Juri’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t respond right away. She clenched her fists slightly, the memory of her past flickering in the back of her mind like a distant, painful echo. Taekwondo had been everything to her once. A part of her identity, something that had made her parents proud. She had been a prodigy, hailed as a genius from a young age, and for a long time, it had defined her existence.

“My parents…” she finally said, her voice low and dangerous, “they made me learn taekwondo. It was their dream for me. People called me a genius. Said I was destined for greatness.”

Gojo remained quiet, letting her speak at her own pace.

“I loved it back then,” she continued, her tone bitter, as if she was trying to convince herself she didn’t care. “Every kick, every movement, it made them proud. I was on my way to becoming something great, something they could show off. But… that’s all gone now. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Gojo’s gaze softened behind his blindfold. “You were a taekwondo prodigy, Juri. And your parents were proud of you. They had every right to be. But just because things have changed doesn’t mean what you accomplished back then is worthless. Teaching Yuji taekwondo—that means something. You’re passing on part of who you are.”

Juri scoffed, shaking her head. “Don’t start getting sentimental on me, old man. I don’t care about that stuff anymore. I’m just trying to keep the kid from dying in his first real fight.”

Gojo wasn’t convinced. “Maybe. But you and I both know it’s more than that. Taekwondo was something special for you, and teaching Yuji—it means you’re still holding onto it. You haven’t completely shut it away, even if you act like you don’t care.”

Juri clenched her jaw, clearly irritated. “What’s your point?”

He shrugged, keeping his tone light but his words careful. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. I know how much taekwondo used to mean to you, and if it’s bringing up memories, good or bad, you can talk about it. You don’t have to keep everything locked away, you know.”

Juri’s eyes flashed with irritation, but there was something else there, too—something more vulnerable. “I’m fine. I haven’t forgotten our deal, so don’t start acting like you care.”

Gojo sighed but didn’t push any further. He knew how much Juri hated letting anyone in, hated the idea of showing weakness or emotion. But he also knew that taekwondo had been her connection to a simpler, happier time—before the higher-ups took her family from her, before she was thrust into the brutal world of jujutsu sorcery.

“I know you’re fine,” he said finally, his voice soft. “Just… remember, Juri, it’s okay to keep parts of yourself from the past. Not everything has to be about revenge.”

Juri didn’t respond, her expression hardening again as she looked away. “You’re getting annoying. I’ll leave Itadori’s training to you if you keep this up.”

Gojo smiled slightly, knowing he wouldn’t get more out of her tonight. “Alright, alright. I’ll back off. Just… keep an eye on the kid. He’s more like you than you realize.”

Juri scoffed, turning to walk away. “Don’t insult me, rat.”

As she left, Gojo watched her go, his smile fading into a more serious expression. He knew there was more to Juri’s tough exterior than most people realized, and taekwondo was one of the few things that still connected her to who she had been before. Maybe, just maybe, teaching Itadori would help her see that some things were worth holding onto—even if she wasn’t ready to admit it.

.

.

.

The Burden of Strength Masterlist

[bittervitter]

ang0mang0′s “copycat” claims

I didn’t want to have to make another post about this, but since people on sonicfan799 / thatAnge / @ang0mang0′s Tumblr profile are getting riled up about this ridiculous drama that should have died ages ago, I figured I’d defend myself. Some people who are trying to support me have been saying incorrect things too, so I also wanted to clear that up. This crap has been going on for months, everyone is sick of it by now. Instead of being brief like I did for other social medias, I’ll be as detailed as possible this time.

[1] “she’s copying/imitating/heavily referencing from my art style!!!”

Like people have said a million times, no I’m not. And nor is anyone else. Just because someone draws the Sonic characters in a similar style to you does not automatically mean they took, copied or “stole” those ideas from you. You don’t own the concept of buff, fluffy bodies or chubby muzzles. COINCIDENCE, as much as you hopelessly deny it, is very much a possible thing- even in crazy situations such as this. There are several other artists who have similar art styles by mere coincidence. IT IS NOT IMPOSSIBLE. As examples, these Instagram artists have similar styles: @ azulytoons and @ indigonite0 / @ magenta_mel and @ zer0finix / @ himemikal and @ natirix. NONE of these artists are “stealing” or referencing from each other- they just have similar art styles, and that is perfectly okay! They draw completely different things with completely different mindsets. The world does not revolve around you, ang0. Not everyone knows who you are, so some people who use the same traits that we do don’t even know we exist.

Also, to anyone unaware, an art STYLE is not merely how one chooses to portray a character. An art STYLE is also what brushes you use, how you sketch, how you line, how you colour, how you shade, how you choose to portray certain objects or ideas- basically your entire fucking understanding of how something’s supposed to look and how you LIKE it to look. It’s not just “chubby faces, poofy curly hair, buff bodies”. It’s everything in a piece AND that.

[2] “she’s tracing my art/ redrawing my ideas!”

Literally no. People have constantly asked you to provide evidence and you refused to. All you did was scream “but it’s so obvious, just look at it!” or “are you dumb? use your eyes!” and several other insults. If you want to prove a point or make someone see something, GIVE. EVIDENCE. The only person who actually provided “proof” was pin_kpeach, your ever so loyal whiteknight, but her “proof” only backfired and proved that the both of you are extremely delusional. In the drawings of ours that she layered over each other, next to NONE of the lines lined up. It looked like a clustered mess of scrap, and the reason for that is because IT WASN’T TRACED. In the one or two drawings where ONE. SINGLE. PIECE. actually lined up was entirely zoomed in to make it seem as though the whole thing was traced. No, honey, that’s not how you provide proof. That’s how you pull a muscle by reaching so desperately to lie about me. The rest of the drawings in those pictures didn’t line up at all, and one- or I believe both- needed to be titled to line them up in the first place. You could say that some people trace things and resize or rotate them, but if I were as dumb as you persist to say, then I wouldn’t have done something like that. Either way, one aspect of a drawing lining up is a common thing for people who have similar styles because- well, I just said it. THEY HAVE SIMILAR STYLES. If they draw something the same way, well fucking duh, it’ll match someone else’s drawing almost exactly sometimes.

[3] “she’s too petty and too much of a liar to credit me! saying the art isn’t hers will hurt her oversized ego!”

Ahaha no. The only one here with an inflated ego is you, ang0. You call me the egotistical one yet you act as though your life is falling apart just because someone else draws like you on the internet. Stop acting like a special snowflake, you are not the only one on this planet with an art style of that nature. I don’t credit you because crediting you makes no damn sense. Why should I credit someone who’s had absolutely no impact on my work whatsoever? What in the hell did you do for my drawings that makes you deserve so much credit? Did you sketch it? No. Did you line it? Nope. Did you colour or shade it? Not a chance. Just because I came up with a design for the characters that happens to look like yours does not mean I owe you jack shit. You cannot. own. a style. Get over it.

[4] “she worsened my depression and is the reason I can’t draw anymore! I have no motivation when there’s some idiot copycat stealing all my art!”

I don’t want to sound like that kind of person, but you worsened your own depression. You painted this false picture in your head and continue to hang onto that belief like your life depends on it. I haven’t done ANYthing to you. You came to ME with these stupid claims back when my art looked LESS like yours, before I even knew who you were. You’re making yourself feel horrible because you, for some paranormal reason, refuse to believe that you’re not the only one with that kind of style. This is why people call you childish, you’re like a whiny baby that can’t accept another child having a toy similar to yours. I can’t even decide whether I should say “grow up” because you’re older than me- not to mention you’re an ADULT.

[5]”she constantly sends her whiteknights to attack me, harass me and send me threatening messages!”

I’ve said several times to my followers NOT to harass you or your followers or anyone against me in this mess at all. I do not send anyone after you. People say things to you out of their own free will and with their own words. I can’t magically know when this happens, why they decide to and I especially can’t control anyone. I’m sorry that my friend Koro sent you all those DMs and horrible messages wishing a lot of very bad things onto you and your family- I asked her several times before and after not to do that, but I didn’t have a clue she did it until after the fact. Either way, don’t go around assuming that I put people up to this or I intentionally ask people to do these things to you. Why in the hell would I do that? What good does that do? All I wanted to do was talk things out but at this point, you don’t even take me seriously, so I can’t even try anymore. The few times we did talk you refuse to see my point of view and just see me as a liar. What the hell am I supposed to do then?

[6]���all vio does is lie, she’s so fake all the time, lying for her petty ego”

I’m not even sure how to respond to this but I thought I might as well bring it up. No matter what I do or say, ang0 sees me as nothing but some retarded liar that can’t help but lie their way around everything, even though I’ve been nothing but genuine all this time. It’s why I can’t even communicate with her anymore, because “shut up, stop lying you copycat” is all I get in response basically.

[7] her insane hypocrisy

Ange and pin_kpeach have said numerous times that I’m rude or insult her, and there have been times where I’ve been mean out of anger, but I know for a fact I apologized for it in DMs. Ange apologized too. I don’t remember ever insulting her after that, but ang0 doesn’t ever stop ridiculing and insulting me with almost every comment she makes on the drama. If she really was sorry, she wouldn’t have done it again, but I guess she said “fuck it” and just continued anyway. Pin_kpeach likes to say I’M the hypocrite for saying Ange is harassing me yet being rude to her a couple times, yet they do they exact same thing, but even worse?? I try my best to be as civil as possible, but ang0 and pink don’t waste a second calling me and my supporters all sorts of colourful names just because they don’t agree with her claims. In fact, here’s a list of every single thing ang0’s ever called me:

retarded, retard, stupid, idiot, dumb, low IQ, mentally ill, crazy, talentless, skill-less, copycat, art thief, (dumb) cow, fuckhole, asshole, bitch, wanna-be artist, unreasonable, clown, fake, liar, hypocrite, delusional, dick, stalker, bittershitter, dumbass, immature

There’s probably more than that, but that’s as much as I can remember. Not hard to forget when she repeats them almost all the time.

[8] gatekeeping ideas

Ange and pink act as if two people drawing a character in the same outfit automatically equals “du bist kopying mein style!!”. I can’t even begin to imagine the mental gymnastics you need to do in order to believe a thought process like that is logical. She thinks that anyone who draws Amy in a dress with a white under-skirt or white ruffles underneath is nothing but a copied idea from her. She thinks that me drawing Amy in a green tank top, blue backwards cap and blue sports shorts is copying her drawing of Amy in a green unidentifiable top (you could only see her back, she didn’t seem to have straps) and blue sports shorts with a slightly different design is automatically copied from her. The poses, shading, angle and idea behind the drawing were COMPLETELY different- but nonono, “this is stolen because the outfit is the same!” They also use the excuse of the whole chubby faces, curly hair, blah blah blah- see point [1] as to why that’s BS.

[9] her perception of my followers/supporters

Aside from Koro, I don’t know if anyone has seriously threatened or harassed her. Her followers comment on my posts, my followers only comment when she brings up the drama or whines about it. She insults my supporters when they don’t agree with her and act like they’re a bunch of immature brats who are wrong while she’s the high and mighty mature one seeing through non-existent lies. I’m used to her making fun of me, but I’m sick and tired of her insulting people who have nothing to do with the drama just because they don’t agree with her. Like, seriously? You call everyone immature and stupid yet you’re the one insulting people non-stop just because they realize how ridiculous and childish you’re acting. That’s why “childish” has become a popular adjective for you, ang0. BECAUSE YOU’RE BEING CHILDISH. CONSTANTLY. You get pissy, insult others and put people down but whine and cry the next minute because you constantly like to play the victim. Speaking of which...

[10] the victim card

I have absolutely no idea what ang0 goes through in real life, but there is no excuse for how she’s behaved during this drama AT ALL. Ange constantly defames her own artwork, calling it shit, calling it every bad name in the book, but doesn’t hesitate for a minute to gatekeep her style as if it was the best thing in the world. She says it’s because she “worked her ass off” and doesn’t want people just stealing her hard work. Okay, but you do realize that other people put just as much work into their own art, no matter if it looks like yours or not, right? She demands that people change their style to stop looking like hers, acting as if that can be done in a matter of minutes, because people having similar styles makes her uncomfortable. Well, surprise motherfucker- welcome to the internet. No one is original and everyone is original at the same time. People are bound to come up with similar ideas and you’re just going to have to deal with it. But despite the similarities, people are still original in their own right. If you believe that people can change a style so easily, why not just change your OWN style? Because you worked your ass off? Well, THEY WORKED THEIR ASS OFF TOO. So don’t act like you’re the only one who’s put effort into their craft. Art is hard, and that applies to EVERYONE- even professionals.

You blame me and other “copycats” for all your problems, blaming us for worsening your depression, ruining your passion for art- when you’re the only one who does this to yourself. Yes, there have been genuine art thieves in your life, and people who have stolen your art- but what I’m talking about are the people like me who DON’T steal your art or are merely inspired by you. People who say “you should be happy they’re inspired!” aren’t saying “you should be happy they’re copying!”. They’re saying that you should be glad that your work is so inspiring that people create their own unique ideas based off your own. Inspiration doesn’t require credit unless they’re purposefully taking a massive part of the original. But being inspired by a hair style or even a pose isn’t stealing. It’s inspiration, that’s it. I’m not inspired by you at all, but I can at least appreciate your art- even if you think I’m just being fake.

[11] ang0mang0′s history and why this shit doesn’t even make sense

Ange has said publicly and to me in detail about how she’s been accused of the same “art style theft” in the past. From what I’ve gathered or heard, people used to accuse her of copying a popular artist called myly14 who’s Sonic art is pretty much everywhere. Whether it be in edits, MVs or whatever else.  Looking at her old art when she went under the name sonicfan799, her art does look similar to myly’s, but ang0 insisted that she didn’t copy myly and didn’t even know who she was. She legit said “it’s not my fault my art looks like someone else’s”, so basically- it was coincidence. She said she changed her art style because she “isn’t an asshole and didn’t want to make the other artist uncomfortable”, even though art style theft isn’t a thing and no one needs to be forced out of a style just because someone else already draws that way. I have no idea what myly’s stance on that situation was, but the fact that it happened just proves how stupid her current claims are.

Ange says that her style is “too complex” to be coincidentally similar to someone else’s, even though the fact that it’s happened 30 times (according to her) just proves that no, ang0, no it fucking isn’t. Your style isn’t complicated at all. Detailed sure, but no style is too complicated to be similar to another’s. Being complex doesn’t make something any less likely to be identical to another complex style.If you didn’t copy myly14 in the past, what right do you have to accuse me of the same damn thing? If I really am copying you, then you have to admit to copying myly, because you can’t just lie about your past and then shit on me for doing the same thing. So it’s either you stop this nonsense or you drag this drama down with you to your grave and admit you copied myly14.

Another thing, myly14 didn’t even have a “simple” style. The fact that her art was almost instantly recognizable and popular meant that she had a signature style that stood out. Yes, she used a lot of the original Sonic style’s anatomy, but her stylization of said anatomy, her shading and the way she composed her pieces gave her a signature style. The most stylized thing I could see was how she drew muzzles, and guess who drew muzzles in a similar way as well? You did. People saw how your way of drawing faces and some parts of the body and thought it looked liked myly’s. The similarities in your anatomy, and not your shading or colouring, was what made people think you copied her. That exact same thing is happening between me and you. My shading, colouring and composition is entirely different from yours, but some parts of the anatomy are similar.

If you really didn’t copy myly14, you have absolutely no. fucking. excuse. to accuse me of the EXACT. SAME. SHIT. that happened to you.

You never needed or deserved to be pressured out of your old style just because people thought it looked similar to someone else’s, and that’s why I refuse to change my style now. Because it isn’t. fucking. fair. To ANYONE.

[12] how I feel (this is copied over from my DeviantART)

At this point I've grown used to what she has to say, but it still hurts. She thinks that I'm some kind of cartoon villain maniacally laughing behind a computer screen every time I post something because she's so deep into her belief that I really copy everything she draws and that nothing I've never posted has any true effort put into it. She genuinely believes she owns all my art and that I devote my entire gallery into recreating her image or some crazy shit like that. It sounds really dumb, but from what I've read from her poorly constructed comments and rants, that's basically what she believes.

She thinks I don't care at all about how all this affects her or anyone at all, but I do. It doesn't just hurt me in the sense that she makes me feel awful with all her insults, but I just feel so bad for her. I feel guilty in the sense that I couldn't do anything at all to help her, not that "shes prolly feeling guilty and made that april fools joke to let out some guilt!!". (If you don’t know, on April Fools Day, I changed my Instagram bio to say “clown” and call myself “the ultimate copycat” as a joke.) That was a really stupid reaction from her by the way... who the hell comes up with that? Now that she's going away for a month, I feel even worse because all I wanted to do was try to make her come to her senses and end this mess. I thought I could talk some sense into her- that didn't work. Her delusions are so strong, she's like a brick wall. I thought I could ignore the drama- that didn't work. She "clowns" and talks about it so annoyingly often. Not to mention people do things on their own to stir shit up. I thought I could support her regardless and maybe try making her feel better about her art- that didn't work. She thinks I'm fake and that everything I say is a lie. Because of me, she probably doesn't believe other people too- and that makes me feel even more terrible.

No matter what I do, I'm automatically the villain and she's the tortured, helpless artist that everyone is against because "everyone is dumb, supporting a copycat" and she's just "used to it, because she's dealt with so much shit already!". It's so ridiculous. If she would just try to actually better herself or the situation, she wouldn't feel so horrible all the time. Like... for god's sake, she relied on a video game to make her happy- that's not healthy, and just like I suspected, it didn't fucking work.

more of how I feel

Because of ang0, I just feel like garbage. My self esteem and confidence in my art was already low. Thanks to her, I don’t feel original (or as original) anymore- and I’m afraid to show many of my new or old ideas because she or her whiteknight pin_kpeach may spring out and say “copycat! stolen! you’re not original!” and a plethora of other insults. I can barely sketch or draw Sonic content without panicking and feeling worthless because all I have is her words and her opinions stuck in my head. She blames me for her demotivation and shit like that when she’s done the same thing to me. She thinks I don’t care about her or her art, when I do, but when I say that, she calls me fake. In reality, ang0 couldn’t give a damn about me and I’m pretty sure she’d be happy if I were dead. She has said before that she doesn’t care if I killed myself soo... there’s that. Anyway lemme not drag my feelings out too long, I just thought I’d say it to anyone willing to listen since her immediate response would’ve been “fake, liar” etc, etc. I really don’t want anyone to feel bad for me or anything like that, I just want people to listen and understand. That’s all.

a final note

I’m really thankful- like, REALLY thankful- for everyone who’s been on my side throughout this. I don’t like picking sides, and I’d hate to make people do so, but there doesn’t seem to be any in between to this at all. It’s either you believe I’m copying her or you don’t.  Most people don’t- thank goodness for that- but some do. And there’s nothing I can do about it. At this point, whatever man.

Please please PLEASE do not harass ang0. Don’t threaten her, don’t insult her, don’t do anything rash or fucking illegal. It’s all fair game if you want to POLITELY SPEAK to her, or try to start a discussion, but please don’t do anything stupid. And especially don’t do things in my name. If you want to debate with me or her, do research first- don’t just jump to conclusions or make assumptions.If you want nothing to do with this drama, then simply don’t say anything- just be aware of what’s going on, that’s all I ask. So nobody gets the wrong idea on either side.

Sorry for this being so long, I think I’m done for now.

Thank you if you read the whole thing.

[9.4.2020]

[prince-dongju]

Radio Wave Love

A/N: This fic was requested two whole months ago. I’m so sorry it took me forever to write. I hope it makes up for it. @nakamoto-papoyaki maybe you could pass this on to Potato Anon? 

Genre: An unhealthy amount of Fluff

Word Count: 4,162 (Sorry. I went off)

Winwin (NCT) X Reader

“Why does he have to look so good!”

“Stop staring at him, and go ask him out you ass!” Maybe that was the logical solution to your problem. But would you listen to Allison? Never.

“No! I’m not ready to be rejected!”

“Who says you’d be rejected?” She was really annoyed at this point. The boys you fell for never seemed too hot to her.

“For one, he’s a senior and I’m a sophomore. Second,” You must have looked insane, all wide eyed with two fingers splayed before you. “He’s amazing at everything. You know how uncoordinated I am!  And third, all his friends would think I’m the ugliest scum on the earth, Have you seen how hot they all are!” Allison had scooted to the end of the bench to avoid how close you grew each sentence. “It’ll never work!” Punctuated by a dejected sigh, you drop your head to the table.

Dong Sicheng was only the man of your dreams. As an avid dancer, he won many competitions, resulting in his nickname: Winwin. (See what I did there?) Anyways, something about him was different. While others would say he’s just attractive, to you he was drop-dead gorgeous. Something about the clothes he wore, or the way he styled his hair. Even the drab school outfits looked like Gucci on him! His friends were all gorgeous as well, constantly surrounded by girls vying for their attention. All of which were gorgeous and popular as well. Looks aside, Winwin was a total sweetheart. His kind acts and sweet smiles lit up your days, fluttering your heart. It was pointless to even dream of him.

✨

“Winwin, didn’t you say you always wanted to join the school’s radio team?” Renjun held a flyer announcing application openings in his hand.

As Sicheng’s closest friend, Renjun knew how much Sicheng loved radio casting. Throughout their childhood Winwin tended to be more reserved and quiet compared to the sarcastic younger. His love for radio started at a young age, a love for radio shows being his main obsession. Since he was shy, it was a win-win. (lol) He could interact with others without the pressures of a camera trained on him. Lucky for him, the school opened up a radio station when he was a sophomore, making his dream more obtainable. The only problem: the aforementioned shyness. This year was the first year he had been willing to apply, feeling more relaxed as Renjun had broken him out of his shell. Keeping him around was definitely Sicheng’s best idea, although he did tend to get choked quite frequently...  

“They have openings!” Renjun didn’t know what hit him. One minute He held a paper in his hand, the next minute he held nothing but air, and his friend was gone.

Sprinting to the office as fast as he could, he paid no attention to his surroundings. In hindsight, he really should have, seeing how he smacked into someone in his haste. WHAM! Next thing Sicheng knew, he was on the ground.

On impact, an array of brightly colored paper exploded from your hands. A teacher had asked you to transport a stack of paper from the copy center to her room, now you were regretting choosing the route you did. As far as you knew, permanent back damage, or a concussion may have ensued. Your body felt as if it had been hit by a train with how fast the collision was. A groan escaped your lips as you twisted your body to catch a glimpse of the perpetrator. You’re gonna give that dweeb a piece of your mind! After twenty seconds, your swollen body had tilted all the way and - NO! No freaking way! Of course it's him. Just another sick and twisted trick the world played on you. Nothing like your longtime crush watching as you lay crippled on the filthy tile. There’s no way on God’s green earth you’d let him see you so rumpled and awkward as this!

Maybe I should run away. Yeah. I’ll pick up what’s left of my dignity and limp as fast as I can.

Twisting as best as you could, you stood up. What you didn’t anticipate, however, was how painful the pressure on your ankle would be. The pain was far too great to bear, and you felt yourself go down, arms flailing to stop gravity's harsh pull. Although a valiant effort was made on your part, it was two strong arms around your waist that finally righted you. In one swift movement, Winwin pulled you against his chest, effectively stopping your motion. Once your feet were firmly planted on the floor, he removed his arms, keeping you steady with a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you okay?” The worry in his voice warmed your heart. Never had you pictured him noticing you, let alone touching you. A tingling sensation filled your whole being the moment his arms met your waist, and it wasn’t going away any time soon.

Cautiously, you turned to him. It took a hot minute, having to maneuver on a swollen ankle. “Y-yeah. I’m okay.” Your reply did little to soothe his worry. Winwin could tell you were in pain, and he felt awful. He felt awful for putting you in pain.

“Can you walk?” Why did he have to look so cute? His brow furled slightly, and his luscious lips protrude slightly. It was nice to know he felt bad, but did he have to look so irresistible?

“I’m totally fine.” When you decided to take a step to prove it, he once again reached to save you from the harsh tile. “I guess I can’t.”

With that, he moved closer, taking your arm in his hand. His grip was perfectly gentle as he placed the arm over his shoulder. His other hand moved around your waist, holding you as tight as possible to his side. By the time you two had limped to the office, lunch period was nearly over. Of course Winwin had to make matters- and your butterflies- worse as he stayed, attentively watching over you and even assisting you to your next class. Sicheng firmly brushed off your protests, assuring you it didn’t matter if he was late. Everything would be okay as long as you were. None of this helped the growing warmth on your face, and pounding in your chest.

✨

A week later, the pain had barely ceased, though you could barely feel from the state of euphoria you were in. After nearly a year of dreaming and hoping, you had nagged yourself a place on the radio team. Every year, a new radio crew was picked. One boy and one girl from each grade were selected each year to explore talents in broadcasting, and news casting for three months. A former graduate, Johnny Seo, had begun the program two years earlier, his senior year. It was no secret Johnny had a knack for radio. Ratings had instantly skyrocketed when his voice was heard over the radio waves. A recent graduate (and heartthrob) Jung Jaehyun snagged a permanent spot on the show, making the entire female population swoon with his sweet voice and dimples.

Although you had pined over the spot for nearly a year, no luck had come. Until today.

“AHHHHHHHHH!!” A shrill shriek echoed the hallways, indicating your elation. “FINALLY! FINALLY FINALLY! AHHHHH!” After a good half hour, and several breathing exercises, Allison finally got you calmed down.

“When do you start?” Although Allison acted as if she couldn’t be bothered with your drama at times, a smile could be detected in her voice.

“Monday! I can’t believe it! I’ve only wanted this for forever! You know how hard I’ve tried, and finally- eech!”

“I know. I know how much you deserve this. I’m so ready for you to show the world your talent!” Allison finished by pulling you into an abrupt hug. This rare act of kindness melted your heart for the bristly young lady. Wasting no time, you reciprocated the action, wrapping your arms around her.

She pulled away hastily, a blush on her face. “Don’t get used to that.” There she was.

Monday came, (although it felt like 800 years passed) and you found yourself before the broadcasting room doors. Allison had walked you there, hoping to help soothe the nerves jumping wild though your body.

“You got this Y/N. You must be good if you were picked for this. Don’t let them down.”  Surely you appeared insane, mumbling to yourself in a nearly vacant hall.

“Girl. Look at me,” Grabbing your face, she forced you to make eye contact. “Don’t underestimate yourself. You got this. Now go make me proud.” With an unceremonious shove, you felt yourself flailing towards the door, barely keeping your footing. You’d get her for that later.

As the door swung open, your mouth fell agape at the wonder of the room. A booth for sound and lighting lied to the right, complete with state of the art equipment. To the left lay a white board, marked with obscure words and phrases, a brainstorming area. Directly center was the main event. A table containing monitors, headsets, and microphones. Many new faces, and some familiar ones circulated the room, antiquating themselves with the surroundings.

Your whole body crackled with excitement. Everything felt perfect. The chance to prove yourself had come, and all you could do was pray this went smoothly.

The first order of business was to introduce yourself to the man in charge. Gaining a good relationship with Johnny would drastically improve the chances of obtaining a recommendation for future work. Standing on the tips of your toes to see above the hubbub, you recognized him by, first, how tall he was, and second, the carefree smile that seemed to constantly paint his features. The only problem- his attention had already been claimed by a young man speaking animatedly, hands flying everywhere. Deciding to avoid any lines that could possibly form, you moved closer, hoping to snag him as he finished.

Moving felt excruciating. The short walk felt like ages due to your bad ankle dragging you down. As you settled yourself in a chair near Johnny, you got a proper look at the man he was conversing with. You almost with you hadn't, for the realization almost sent you tumbling to the floor. The boy in question was none other than, (you guessed it) Sicheng himself.

This must be some cruel joke brought upon you by whoever was manipulating your life. It only got worse when he recognized you despite the attempts to duck your reddened face.

"Y/n! I didn't think I'd see you here. How's your ankle?"

“Um... It’s getting better, but it’s still pretty painful.”

You hadn’t meant to make him feel guilty, but his sorrowful expression revealed how bad he still felt. “I’m so sorry I caused all this mess, and if there’s any way I can make it better, I’ll do it.”

“There’s no need. I wasn’t watching where I was going. Honestly, it’s not your fault.”

“But. But I feel so bad. You’re the innocent one in this situation, I want to show how sorry I am.”

“It seems like you two know each other. You must be good friends. I can almost feel the energy you two share. This makes my job a lot easier. We’ll adjust the schedule to broadcast you two together.” Johnny was smiling as if a load had been lifted from his shoulders.

While this was a great deal for Johnny, it couldn't have been or any worse for you. Being with your High School crush for a 60 Minute period everyday almost sounded too good to be true. But at the same time, there's no way you could hold the conversation with him without blushing like crazy and giving yourself away. Winwin on the other hand, thought it was an okay deal. He felt bad for injuring you, and you’re pretty cute, and you’re also the only girl he’d been able to hold a conversation with so he thought “Why not?”

As the class was seated, you got your first good look at Jaehyun. You could see why all the girls love him. His dimples were definitely noteworthy, and something about him made you feel at ease. You surely needed it with how close Winwin was sitting by you, his knee brushing yours occasionally. Looking around, you noticed the effect Jaehyun was having on everyone. Not only the girls, but some guys were also captured in his comforting aura, subconsciously leaning into his words. No wonder they hired the guy.

Once the introductions had finished, it was homework time. Groans and whispers of disgust entered the room, homework on the first day of the trimester? Johnny instructed everyone to split into partners, and assigned the task: a chemistry test. “It’s important to have a good vibe when on air. No one wants to listen to a show with junky chemistry. You need to feel each other, you get me?” Johnny sounded more like a California surf boy the more you listened to him. It didn’t take long for you and Sicheng to turn to each other, a mutual question in your eyes.

“Do you wanna....?” He was getting all shy again, blushing slightly and avoiding eye contact. If you weren’t feeling the same way, you’d probably think it was cute.

“Y-yeah. That would be nice. Very nice.” Wow. Who knew he wore such nice shoes? Anything to avoid eye contact. Too bad you missed the small smile gracing his eager features.

✨

Johnny’s “chemistry test” proved to be the wackiest assignment you’ve ever completed. Questions about zodiac sign matches, and deep questions about auras. Honestly 90% of your answers were BS’d. Although some questions kinda made sense, future plans and qualities in friends. Luckily for you two, the answers matched up for the most part. Although you felt this assignment was total crap, you were able to learn more about each other. Through the process, Winwin came to know you as more than the quiet underclassman he occasionally saw in the halls. His eyes were opened to your world, pulled in as you spoke of your passion for journalism. Your voice took him on a journey, filled with such passion it almost scared him. Why hadn’t he met you earlier? Everything seemed to click into place, making Sicheng wish he had conversed with you earlier, thinking about the friendship you could have formed.

Amidst the rant, you completely missed the change in his expression. Casual interest morphing to adoration, eyes never leaving your face, scared to miss every detail. Why hadn’t he noticed how beautiful you were? Something inside urged him to make a move, to ask you out. The thought caused him to blink out of his stupor, catching him off guard. There’s no way he could make such a proposition, he’d never get the words out. Besides, who would want to date such an awkward dork?

✨

Luckily your partnership passed the test with flying colors, and you two were assigned as a permanent pair. As the week passed, Sicheng’s feelings only grew deeper for you, as a result of the time spent together every day. He began to notice little things he never knew about you. Like how your eyes lit up when you talked about your cat, or something you were passionate about. Or how cutely you yawned when you were tired. He was so grateful to the class for bringing you together, for giving him an amazing new friendship. Or maybe something more.

The time for Prom was fast approaching, and the scramble to find a date had begun. Deep down, you knew the outcome would be the same as last year, watching movies on your couch while eating who knows how many calories. But deep down you couldn’t help but hope you’d be asked. By a certain someone as well.

A month before the big day you found yourself in broadcasting class, trudging through the morning’s session. The subject: The perfect prom day date. While the others gave quite helpful input, you stayed silent, having never been to a dance before. Somewhere among the talk of desert ideas, Jaehyun noticed the lack of your voice. “y/n, How about you? What activities would you recommend?” At least this wasn’t a televised program, or else the whole school would have seen your flushed cheeks.

“Urm. I’ve never actually, um, been to a dance.” The room turned dead silent, making the situation even worse.

“Well… you’re missing out.” Replied none other than Winwin.

“Just wait, y/n. The boys will be crawling over each other to ask now they know you're free. Why don't you say a little something, something to get them interested.” You'd be grateful for Johnny’s help if you didn't feel so pitiful. How sad was this? It almost felt like an advertisement: Date Me, I’m desperate!  

“Urm, I may be quiet, but once you get to know me you'll be pleasantly surprised. I'm like a fungus -I grow on people.” Oh no. Maybe this radio thing wasn't such a good idea. Jaehyun and Johnny seemed to understand why you'd never dated and shared a look of embarrassment. At least one person found you funny. Sicheng let out a string of giggles, running his fingers through his hair and smiling to himself. How could someone be this cute?

✨

Of course it was raining. You’d only spent an hour on your hair, might as well ruin it. Today was one of those days. One of those days where nothing goes well. An unexpected power outage gave you an experience you’d never wanted - the opportunity to shower in water the temperature of the Arctic Ocean. Allison was out with the flu, and you were forced to fend for yourself. To top it all off you’d received a horrible grade on your history essay and a severe scolding from your instructor. The rain was only a minor inconvenience.

As you sat upon the curb after your valiant effort to stop a departing bus had failed, the tears came. Salty wetness plummeted from your nose as strangled sobs escaped your throat. The dreary rain made everything feel impossible. Constant failure and loneliness only fed the soggy beast.

“y/n.”

Sicheng. Not now. He'd never find you attractive again once he's seen the blotchy, runny mess called your face. You weren't turning for anything.

“Are you ok?” Can't he take a hint!

“Ye-yes.” Nobody in their right mind would believe the lie. Certainly not Winwin.

The dreary skies darkened further as he surged forward and gently grasped your shoulder. A symphony of thunder swelled as you were encircled in his arms and a sense of security. He understood your reluctance to reveal your face. He also understood the embarrassment over the running makeup staining your cheeks. But to him, you were beautiful. “You don't need it” he whispered, deftly wiping away the remnants of makeup. Once the substance had been removed, his lips descended upon your forehead, leaving a whisper of a kiss. Warmth shot from your head to your toes. It was better than any drug or medicine, healing instantly. “Come with me. Let's make you smile again.” You offered no resistance, allowing yourself to be led to his car.

The night turned out to be one of the best memories you ever kept. Winwin treated you to dinner and a movie, never releasing your hand from his firm grasp. Tracing comforting circles upon your skin, he let you vent and empathised (lol. Empathy) with your emotions. After you extricated yourself from a final hug and had bid him farewell, you confronted the situation. Did he see you as something more or just a friend. Friends hold hands, right? 

✨

The Monday after your soggy encounter, Sicheng cornered you in the cafeteria. “Um. So I’m having a party… at seven tonight. I was wondering if you would come.” His endearing shyness made the offer hard to refuse (like you even wanted to.) “It’s at my place. Just a small party. My closest friends. You could even invite some friends too. I mean, that’s if you want to come.” He was doing the thing again, his words coming out all choppy- a telltale sign he was nervous.

“I’d love to. I know just the person to invite.” When you smiled, Winwin swore his heart burst.

✨

“YOU’RE INVITED TO HIS PARTY!!” You should have broke this to Allison gently, but excitement overcame you.

“Yeah. And he told me to bring someone too. I hope you’re free tonight.”

“For reals!? Are we talking about the same Sicheng here? The one with the legendary parties? Because if you are… girl don’t waste this opportunity.”

“What do you mean?” What opportunity could she be talking about?

“He’s totally got a thing for you. He only invites his closest friends to his parties. No one he doesn’t like gets in.”

Oh goodness. Your encounters were becoming heavier, a tension falling between you. His actions had become harder to decipher, resulting in an endless headache. Maybe he felt the same? There's only one way to know.  

The party was starting in less than an hour and you’d decided to do it. You’d decided to woman up and tell him how you feel. The worst he could do was say he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, Sicheng would never ridicule you. The cutest clothes were taken out of your closet, and the best makeup was applied. Only the best for the night you’d finally bare your soul.   

Between the bumping music and the darkened rooms, it was a miracle you found Sicheng. A few close friends? How many people does he know? Once you finally found him you had to physically force yourself to keep moving, nerves anchoring you in place. He looked hot. And that didn’t help either. Dressed in a casual button down shirt with simple skinny jeans, he was effortlessly handsome. When he saw you his face lit up. Little did you know, he’d been anxious to see you as well. Grateful he was in a secluded area, you pressed forward.

“You look really good y/n.” Oh no. The blush was back. Would your cheeks ever be safe from his constant bombardment?

“Hi Sicheng. I was wondering if I could talk to you about something.” It’s now or never girl. Pull yourself together.

“O-okay. I actually have something to tell you too.”

Crap

“You go first.” Maybe he didn’t like you. What if he was disgusted by you and wanted you gone? If you let him go first maybe it would eliminate the awkwardness of a rejected confession.

“N-no. You go first. You initiated the conversation. It’s only fair.” Was he really gonna be like this?

“Fine. Let’s do it at the same time. On the count of three. One, Two, Three.”

“I like you.”

“I like you.”

The pair of you shared the same facial expression, shock. Do you really feel the same? Does he really feel the same? All caution was thrown to the wind, and you reached up to peck his cheek. For weeks you’d wondered what it would feel like. To finally know how it felt to kiss him.

It seemed as if that wasn’t enough for Sicheng, as he pressed closer to you and connected your lips. The party faded, and reality blurred. The only thing that mattered was the way his lips felt on yours, how silky soft they were and how they moved almost hungrily against yours. The moment was so perfect. As if his lips were made for you, and you alone. His hands moved to cup your face, deepening the kiss while slowly tracing your skin with his fingers. Yours wound around his neck, never wanting to let go.

Eventually the kiss had to be broken and reality returned to, but not before he left one last kiss upon your lips. Neither of you had been one for words. But you understood exactly how the other felt. The kiss conveyed all you needed to know. As he held you so delicately in his arms while slow dancing to an Ed Sheeran song, you knew you loved him.

Scanning the room, you could barely make out where Allison had wound up. She was flirting with some boy named Yuta. From what you had gathered, he was a jock and a partier, but he seemed to be smitten with her. His arm slowly wound around her waist as they talked. One thing was for certain, she wouldn’t be going home without his number.

All was right in the world. You were suddenly grateful for the radio show. Awkward moments could have been avoided without it.  But one thing’s for sure. Without it, you’d never be where you were now- in the arms of the man you love.  

[retrorendum-blog]

Uncharted 4: A Thief’s End - Review

Title: Uncharted 4: A Thief’s End

Available On: Playstation 4

Reviewed On: Playstation 4

Info: Naughty Dog, 2016

WARNING MINOR SPOILERS FOR UNCHARTED 4

Uncharted 4 is the Uncharted game for Uncharted fans. The story revolves almost entirely around the characters relationships this time, and there aren’t any supernatural twists or really insane villains. That being said, I’m sure you can enjoy this game perfectly fine without having played the first three games, since the visuals and story are engaging enough without context, but there are multiple scenes so filled to the brim with references to the other games that it really would be a shame to miss out on the pure nostalgia you can get from these tiny tidbits. 

Story: Uncharted 4 takes place about 5 years after the conclusion of Drake’s Deception, and in those years a lot changed. Nate and Elena are now officially married, (no more BS breakups at the end of the game) and Nate has a steady job as a diver for a wreckage cleanup company. The real story begins when Nate discovers that his brother Samuel Drake, who’s been in prison in South America for the last 15 years, has been broken out by a drug cartel leader called Alcazar. Alcazar was Sam’s cellmate for a number of years, and during that time Sam told him about the great pirate treasure of Henry Avery that he and Nate had been searching for. When Alcazar breaks Sam out of prison he gives him two options to repay him, bring him Avery’s treasure, or give him his life. Nate, Sam and Sully are then thrown headfirst into a quest to follow clues that will lead to the treasure of Avery, to save Sam’s life. As you progress through the story, you learn more about the game’s antagonists/ treasure hunting competitors, Rafe Adler and Nadine Ross. Both of them serve as villains who are significantly more memorable and believable than Lazaravic, Talbot, or the rich white guy from Drake’s Fortune. Rafe is a rich boy obsessed with outdoing the Drake brothers, who he has a bit of a history with, and Nadine and her mercenary company Shoreline are hired by Rafe to help him get Avery’s Treasure before Nate and Sam can. In the end, this story is pretty great since it deviates from the normal Uncharted formula and gives us a new main character to worry about, but because of that it loses some Uncharted adventurous charm that the other games were so famous for. Uncharted 4′s story gets a 7/10.

Visuals/ Music: Visuals are one thing that the Uncharted franchise has never had to fret about. They consistently push the limits of realism and high quality graphics that their systems can handle, and Uncharted 4 takes this push to an entirely new level. Every area you enter is incredibly detailed, and in some places it’s almost difficult to believe that the design gods at Naughty Dog actually made this rather than just scanning in a real city or forest. On your adventure you’ll visit the plains of Madagascar, the forests of various tropical islands, and the snow capped peaks of Scotland. Each location is meticulously crafted, and there aren’t any rocks, plants or buildings that don’t look absolutely stunning. Keep in mind that I played this on a normal PS4 on a 720p TV, so I can’t imagine how great it would be in 4K on a PS4 Pro. The music in this game is excellent as well, but unfortunately it comes off as not very original or memorable since there isn’t much but orchestral background music. Overall Uncharted 4 is a sight to behold, and likely will be the best looking game I’ve ever played for a while, or at least until I pick up Horizon Zero Dawn in the future. That being said I absolutely love the game’s art style and the soundtrack is decent as well, so the visuals/music get a 10/10

Gameplay: Gameplay has never been exactly what the Uncharted series is known for, but this entry changes up the physics and mechanics just enough so it feels like it’s own thing. The classic Uncharted platforming is back in full force, but this time each area has branching paths to get you from point A to point B, which makes it feel as if you really are making your way across cliffsides by your own inginuity. There are three new mechanics introduced in Uncharted 4, and they’re all great ways to make the environments slightly more varied. The first is sliding, and it comes into play when you encounter a slippery slope, such as a mudslide, a gravelly hill, or a wet rooftop. When you’re sliding you have a little bit of horizontal control, but you mostly just slide down until you’re about to fall off a cliff, then you jump to safety. Next is the grappling hook, and it is by far the biggest change to the gameplay. Nate now carries around a grappling hook which you activate by pressing L1, and it can be used for multiple purposes. You can use it to swing across large pits by attaching it to a branch, pull crates with it by tying it to them, or using it in combat to pull mix ups on your enemies. The final new mechanic is this metal spike you find about 75% through the game, which you can use to jab into cliffsides as an extra hand hold. Aside from new traversal methods, the stealth has also been upgraded tremendously. Nate now has the ability to sneak around enemies inside of tall grass or brush, and perform takedowns without alerting the surrounding bad guys. You can also have your enemies lose track of you and cease aggression by hiding in tall grass where they can’t see you. Gunplay is virtually unchanged from the other games, aside from changing reload from R1 to triangle (which takes some serious getting used to if you’re fresh off the original trilogy). The final gameplay change is the classic Uncharted set pieces, or the lack thereof. Uncharted 4 feels different from the other games in that it is focused on character development, but because of that it loses the sense of adventure. There aren’t too many memorable scenes or set pieces in Uncharted 4, and those that are memorable, such as the final boss fight or the bell tower sequence, don’t have the power that scenes like the plane, cruise ship and burning house from Uncharted 3 have, or the long lasting impact of the opening train from Uncharted 2. This really is disappointing, since it’s those incredible large scale moments that really make the Uncharted series so unique. The gameplay overall takes a step back from what Uncharted 2 and 3 did, and even though it innovated in some ways, the gameplay doesn’t feel as cohesive as it did before. Uncharted 4′s gameplay gets an 8/10.

Verdict: Uncharted 4: A Thief’s End is a great game in it’s own right, but the conclusion it brings to Nathan Drake’s adventures is what will really make it stand out down the road. The game is stunning to look at, fun to play, and has a story that really makes you feel for the characters you’ve spent time with, but in the end it comes off as not much more than a conclusion since the epic scale of adventure is lost in the folds of it’s character arcs. I recommend Uncharted 4 to anyone who has played the rest of the series, but if you haven’t and don’t have any connection to the world and characters, it will probably just feel like an average platforming adventure game. I did enjoy my time with Uncharted 4, but after everything they changed and comparing it to the high points of the franchise, Uncharted 4 doesn’t hold much water. Uncharted 4 receives an 8.5/10.