#sd: shape of you

[southislandwren]

So basically I’ve been spreading the phrase “silly quirky” around my department kind of to show that we all have little quirks and it’s okay to be different, and people have adopted it and generally use it in good faith, but I have a theory (with good evidence) that the freshman just genuinely does not like autistic people, and it’s making me really bummed out since she’s one of my close friends :(

[broke-on-books]

Me trying to figure out how long it took to make Scooby Goes Hollywood for maximum emotional impact and getting nothing from Google

Do we think it took longer than three months

[currymanganese]

GUYS, I CAN'T ACTUALLY BELIEVE I'M SAYING THIS, BUT WHAT IF THEY ACTUALLY HAD A GOOD REASON FOR JOHN CENA BEING CAST AS SAMMY FAK?

please bear with me (pun intended) and let me know what you think of my speculation under the cut~

In a mind-boggling case of a seemingly big-lipped alligator moment in season 3 - John Cena appears in a bizarrely over the top (even by the tonal comedic standards set previously by The Bear e.g. Ecto Cooler punch at a kid's birthday party getting spiked with Xanax in Season One) and jarring scene that stretches on and on as he obnoxiously squabbles, blathers and exchanges nonsensical rapid-fire quips with his brothers Neil and Ted Fak as they buff polish The Bear's dining area before a food photographer from The Chicago Tribune arrives to take a photo for a review of The Bear.

In this scene, he also intimidates and threatens to 'haunt' (in a Fak family tradition ( that even the Faks find annoying) - that involves pranking and being an unrestrained nuisance to their loved ones especially when they least expect it) his brother Ted for, "stealing his SD cards"......

This scene and the increased screen presence of the seemingly plot-irrelevant Faks this season is currently being eviscerated by plenty of fans and critics alike.

Edit:

I now strongly suspect that John Cena's role was always in the works ever since S1

..................................

But what if there's a (debatable, but) really good reason for this scene and the increased involvement in Seasons 2 and 3 of the massive numbered siblings family of Carmy's pseudo cousins, the Faks?

See Exhibit A:

In season 2, episode 3, Sundae - after Carmy has already asked Sydney out to Kasama, a husband and wife owned restaurant run by Tim Flores, and Genie Kwon*, ostensibly just to brainstorm and gain inspiration for planning for the new menu, and after Sydney has already gone home and freshened up and changed her clothes, then arrived to Kasama early, despite the meeting only being scheduled for an hour after she last spoke to Carmy at his apartment, Claire calls and interrupts the whole hypothetical shebang with Syd and Carmy at Kasama (the Tagalog WORD FOR TOGETHER) with the words,

"Did you mean to give me a fake number? You do know that I know your entire family [translation: she must know Donna too and Claire assumes that Carmy's folks approve of her - and she's proven to be technically right throughout Seasons 2 and 3 ], right? And I know ALL the Faks! [translation: tee hee! they're bigger than you - to quote Neil and Ted with their Uncle, "We Faks do have a particular shape, don't we?😇" - and they outnumber you, you scrawny punk, slay!😉✨]"

Claire then proceeds to playfully threaten to have said "massive numbered siblings" Faks, which includes Sammy Fak, played by John Cena (a professional wrestler, from an industry that is mixes both bawdy over the top theatre, a performance art that values Kayfabe (legerdemain/slight of hand anyone?) and comedy, and an athletic discipline) that is TALL. BUILT. HENCH. AND BUFF AF.....Claire 'playfully' threatens to have THESE FAKS, beat up Carmy, who is short in stature and cannot fight well from all the previous physical confrontations we've seen him be involved in, despite supposedly being a former high-school wrestler, and who has already been seriously physically abused thrice in the series run thus far (not counting him play fighting or trying to fight with Richie) after being JUMPED by a GROUP of assailants, not once, but TWICE in season one, by the Ballbreaker nerds in the pilot, and the Bachelor Party attendees in the season finale (the first season started and ended with Carmy being beaten tf up, Holy Shit! 🤯); AND AFTER BEING SLAPPED IN THE FACE IN SEASON 2 BY HIS OWN MOTHER, DONNA.

Notice the way Carmy goes from being lost in his thoughts but being completely relaxed after his menu planning session with Sydney, and in anticipation of seeing her on their would be inspiration seeking meet-up (definitely not a date, no Sir! 👀) at Kasama, to being tense and jittery and apprehensive when Claire calls him (after going behind his back and getting his number from Fak).

Notice the way Carmy's voice shakes when he asks Claire if she really knows all of the Faks.....

Notice Carmy's defeated and annoyed reaction after he hangs up the phone.

No wonder Carmy is being so avoidant and conflict averse in his handling of Claire in both Season Two and Three, he has absolutely no faith in himself or his loved ones at present to defend himself should he assert the type of boundaries he may have been desiring to have with them for these past two seasons, after all - who can he count on to fully have his back even to the point of physically intervening for him if he gets into a scrape or is genuinely attacked, by the Faks on account of Claire taking offense at or misrepresenting his words and actions to them, e.g. Claire apparently twisting Carmy's self loathing stream of consciousness confession (that she eavesdropped on) and telling Tiff that they broke up because Carmy said that "Claire will ruin everything good for him?" while he was trapped in the fridge?

What if Carmy knows he has to rip the band-aid and call Claire and apologize for his part in the superficiality and disintegration of their dalliance, but is afraid to do so because he knows in so doing, if he is being fully honest with himself and with Claire, he never truly wanted to be with her in the first place?

And who knows how Claire will take that revelation - it probably won't be pretty will it?

And.....

to quote Neil Fak,

"Claire's the best."

"We love Claire."

"I did that." [setting Carmy and Claire up in Pop)

And.....

Claire. knows. all. the. Faks.....

TL;DR

They cast John Cena as Sammy Fak, and the Faks had a lot of screen-time this season because they are the physical manifestation of being haunted in their family's sense of the word:

and a satirical visualization of Carmy's desire for Syd being cock-blocked ; plus Claire is a Love-able Alpha Bitch, and Carmy is ambivalent towards her, and even a little scared to face her, because her henchmen are the Faks!

If you enjoyed this post, then thank you for reading and I'd recommend that you check out the following meta on the way Christopher Storer and Company have seemingly (and controversially) committed to sticking to the bit of lying to the audience and breaking the fourth wall throughout this entire season:

Richie and the viewer - by @whenmemorydies with my add-on in the reblogs about Richie, not Carmy, potentially being Christopher Storer's author avatar in this series (from a post originally written before season 3 premiered.

Fourth Wall being broken - by @brokenwinebox and @thoughtfulchaos773

Claire being a possible representation of addiction, being a habit that is hard to kick - by @thoughtfulchaos773 and my and @devisrina 's add-on speculating that Claire may also be meant to be interpreted or revealed as a bit of a mean girl, to reference TVTropes, she (and by extension Season 3) may be a deconstruction/ mashup /send-up / subversion of the: Girl Next Door, the Cute Bookworm, Nerds Are Sexy, MPDG, Yandere, Alpha Bitch, Loveable Apha Bitch, Childhood Friend Romance, High-School Sweethearts, Sickeningly Sweethearts, Getting Crap Past The Radar, Freeze Frame Bonus, Parental Bonus, Viewers Are Geniuses, Give Geeks A Chance, Even Nerds Have Standards, Beauty Equals Goodness, Face-Heel Turn, Cerebus Syndrome tropes etc.....and a subtler mirror version of Donna Berzatto.

Edit: See my reblog add on to @espumado 's thread on the recurrent 'haunting' theme this season and the possibility of the Claire x Carmy x Sydney love triangle being a Lilith x Adam x Eve allegory, and my webweaving about Syd x Carmy's Adam and Eve parallels. sidenote: Lilith is Adam's first wife apocryphally and in Jewish mysticism that left him, and became a she-demon / mother of demons after being impregnated by the archangel Samael - wait is 'Sammy' Fak a Samael allegory?!!

and another reblog add-on of mine to the thread linked above - on The Faks as the living embodiment of all that is fake in Carmy's life, C Storer's handy dandy tools for slight of hand,

you can't spell fake without FAK.

and please see

Clairecarmy as Ann Veal x GOB from Arrested Development

and with Richie's frustrated refrain of, "Who cares?!" whenever Claire and Claire and Carmy's breakup is brought up in 3 -

see the running gag of George Michael Bluth's (from Arrested Development) family's disdain for Ann and his relationship with her.

5. The parallels between The Bear and Burnt by @ambeauty - a post Season 2 post which was proven to be prescient and insightful given the Easter Egg inclusion of Bradley Cooper's character from Burnt on the photo wall of chefs at Ever in the Funeral dinner in the finale.

6. The parallels between The Bear and Boiling Point - a gritty film and mini-series set in a restaurant which features several plot elements and characters reminiscent of certain character archetypes and subplots present in The Bear - seriously think of this IP as The Bear's cynical, dramatic, older British cousin.

Decision to leave by @anderwater

This anon that recommended Boiling Point to me and wrote about its connections to The Bear.

The difference between The Bear and Boiling Point by @theblvckvenus

The similarities between The Bear and Boiling Point in this reblog add-on to @happylikeasadsong et. al's thread.

7. Claire/Carmy and the Walk In - my old post on the parallels between Strange Days (1995), Can't Hardly Wait (1998, and The Bear.

and @ambeauty 's meta on Claire as a representation of the fridge

8. My post on the possible connection between The Bear Season 3 and Andrei Tarkovsky's experimental, semi-autobiographical, psychological Oedipal drama film The Mirror (1975) - a film which was incredibly divisive upon its initial release, but has since gained wide acclaim and re-evaluation as a masterpiece, and that has had a legacy of subsequently inspiring multiple renowned filmmakers.

9. The Bear series' lead actress, and the director of Napkins, one of the only episodes of The Bear Season 3 to receive almost universal acclaim - Ayo Edebiri's trollish sense of humour and assertion that lying is the pinnacle of comedy.

10. And last but certainly not least with the inclusion of a Genie Kwon*'s, of Kasama fame, cameo in the season finale and the prominence of Kasama being key to Syd and Carmy's stymied relationship progression, courtesy Claire, see

The Kasama of it all by @gingerylangylang1979

@mod-doodles @lunasink @vacationship @chansoooo1-blog

@bioloyg @msmoiraine @nerdyblerd @ripley-stark @uncriticalbunny @prowitchazel @msmoiraine @mswyrr @anxietycroissant @turbulenthandholding @tvfantic87 @laryssamedeirss @tejidaepoque @angelica4equity @inalltheirgorgeouscolors @houseofevangelista @glitterslag

@uncriticalbunny @imliterallyjustablackgirl

@bioloyg and @ambeauty please don't say I told you so or welcome back, I'm flabbergasted that I wrote this, but I want to believe! 😭

P.S. If you're still reading this, do yourself a favour and read @brokenwinebox 's post

New Paradigm

and this follow up

Mocktail is a dirty word

and check out her #the magic trick tag!

and also check out these Sydcarmy and Rosalind x Orlando from Shakespeare's As You Like It parallels:

The Bear as a pastoral comedy

First Meetings

Fumbling with your crush

Separation, keepsakes and lovesickness

and also C Storer really did tell us in the music that this season would inspire

Mixed Emotions 🥴

[tiarasnteakettles]

I designed my first bag.

Yeah, so, everyone and their mother is designing ita bags lately, and having them produced by a manufacturer. I figured, aw heck, if they can do it for merch reasons, so can I, right? I've designed and manufactured so many different things that finding a good manu should be a piece of cake. Pay the big bucks for that initial sample, and then, uh, yeah that's it. It's for me. All mine, fufufu. But see, this needed to be a big bag. This wasn't your average ita bag to hang on your arm and put all your little buttons and pins in. It's for a doll. And sure okay, there's doll bags. All sizes. Black, canvas, sad. Boring. And the ones that are cute? Well, they're only for the small dolls, like Pullip or Blythe. Maybe MSD (45cm) dolls if you're lucky. Back in the olden times, Dollmore had made a coffin shaped carrier bag for SD(60cm) dolls. They came in black/brown... and black/plaid.

And this was in the early 2010's, perhaps earlier. If you can find a used one, the pleather is already disintegrating. I also dislike having crosses on random things. We can be spooky without potentially offending someone's beliefs, it could be neato.

But also, I love when people display their little figures in bags with flowers and such! I really want a window for a big doll, is that too much to ask? So: 1. SD size or bigger. 2. Coffin Shaped. 3. Big clear window. 4. Removable cover. 5. No crosses. Seems easy enough.

[kamotecue]

an untold story ∞ j. fleming

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

summary: you were her untold story, a story that she’d never tell. but when a sea of chelsea players ended up finding an old camcorder on her coffee table, they’d never expected what would happen. swedish-canadian!reader

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

a group of three took a seat on the couch, waiting for their freckled teammate who had gotten stuck in london traffic. it was supposed to be bonding time between the group of four, but it just so happens that the owner of the apartment got stuck in traffic buying ingredients for their get-together.

“a camcorder?” niamh said, as she carefully grabbed the camcorder she saw on the table. penille looked at the british woman who just gave her a lopsided grin.

magda just sighed, it was like there were two children that she had to take care of. niamh opened it, turning it on to see that it was working and it was in a good shape.

of course, it was—it held memories of her first love, and she wishes that they would be their last. niamh looked at the videos that were in the sd card to see jessie with an unfamiliar girl?

“it’s baby canada.” niamh said, chuckling at how young jessie looked. despite the canadian being in her mid twenties, she still had the baby face.

“wait, is this y/n?” niamh said, as she had gotten a closer look at the video. madga raised her eyebrows at the mention of her swedish teammate.

“what do you mean, niamh?” magda gave the british woman a look, as niamh passed her the camcorder. magda’s eyes widened as she realized it really was y/n.

“y/n l/n?” penille asked, as she played against the young defender. not only that but the love of her life was quite protective of her.

“they knew each other?” niamh shrugged, but stood up in realization.

“they were teammates in the youth levels, before she represented the swedish team.” niamh commented, forgetting the small piece of information.

magda hummed, but she had accidentally press the start button. she tried to exit the video, but she couldn’t.

the video started, a younger looking y/n was seen. a look of amusement was shown on her face.

“freckles, why are you behind the camera.” a 12 year old looking y/n asked, jessie’s chuckle was heard.

“i’m usually the one in front of the camera, n/n. let me be the videographer once.” y/n had a lopsided grin.

“alright, what are your questions for me, älskling?” magda raised her eyes at the swedish endearment, but felt her heart swoon.

“what would you like to be in 5 years?” jessie showed a peace sign in front of the view, as y/n playfully shoved her finger away.

“hopefully on the senior team, playing alongside you.” niamh chuckled at your answer, you weren’t however. but you did play together on the youth levels. penille gushed at how cute the young defender was, while magda had a soft smile.

“if you weren’t a footballer, what sport would you play?” y/n looked deep in thought, as she hummed.

“track and field, or perhaps badminton?” younger jessie chuckled, as y/n gave her a soft glare.

“i want you in the video with me, please?” y/n gave her a pout, as jessie sighed before taking a seat right near y/n. magda watched as jessie’s right hand became intertwined with y/n’s left hand.

“favorite footballer?” y/n looked at jessie with a smile, as she poked the young midfielder’s nose.

“you, freckles.” y/n said, as the video came to an end.

“so they’re childhood friends.” penille said, as niamh had her eyebrows furrowed.

“how come we don’t know this?” she asked, as magda gave her a soft shrug.

“there’s another one.” niamh said, playing it. it was jessie and y/n in their teenage years, more specifically 16-17.

“hi, i’m jessie and i’m with-“ the intro started as jessie gave y/n a soft look.

“y/n l/n.” y/n said, as jessie playfully pushed y/n who chuckled at her expression.

“more specifically, my girlfriend.” the trios eyes widened at the revelation. niamh had her hand over her mouth, as magda quirked her eyebrows up, and penille just gasped.

“yes, i’m jessie’s girlfriend.” y/n had grabbed jessie’s free hand, and placed a gentle yet loving kiss on the dorsal side (back of her hand).

“hopefully my last.” jessie said, as y/n grinned at her words.

“they dated?” niamh said, as magda gave her a look. it was an invasion of privacy, yet they couldn’t find themselves to stop the video.

“freckles?” y/n asked, as jessie turned to look at her.

“yes, n/n?” a soft look was shown on y/n’s face.

“i love you” those three words were said soft, as niamh’s eyes widened.

“i love you, dimples.” you laughed, as your two dimples were shown. she poked your right dimple as she chuckled.

there were a lot of videos of the pair, but one had catched niamh’s eyes. it was a video of jessie alone, dated way back during her college years.

“hi, it’s me jessie. i don’t know how to feel—y/n got into a terrible collision against the opposing team. she doesn’t remember me.” the canadian midfielder had tears in her eyes, as she grabbed the nearest tissue.

she was seen wiping the tears, as she held onto a stuffed bear. it wore small clothing, more specifically a costumed made jersey. it was y/n’s national jersey, the number 17 was shown and it was in swedish colors. she represented the U-23’s rather than the youth level jessie is representing.

the video had came to an end, as they looked at each other—a soft smile but it didn’t reach their eyes. the opening of the front door was heard, as niamh scrambled to close the camcorder, gently placing it back to where she got it.

the trio acted like they were in a small conversation but it didn’t work. jessie reached the living room, as she looked at them, analyzing their actions.

she gazed at the camcorder as she rushed to it, grabbing it before heading to her room.

“you didn’t touch it, did you?” jessie asked, as niamh whistled.

“we didn’t mean to see the videos.” niamh’s soft voice said, as jessie had flared at her words. but she didn’t do anything, except sighed deeply.

“i’m not mad, i just—i miss her.” jessie said, her voice broke as magda pulled the canadian into a hug. she hid her face into the crook of the captain.

penille softy patted her back, as niamh looked at her in concerned.

“she doesn’t remember me. and i tried so hard to talk to her—but i just can’t.” jessie said, as madga placed a soft kiss on the crown of her head.

pt 2 incoming

[pomeness]

Ryusae scenario where Ryusei's hands tremble as a temporary side effect of the meds he's taking, so doing his eyeliner in the morning has become extremely frustrating. He often gives up halfway through the process, throwing the eyeliner against the wall in a fit of rage and angrily rubbing the makeup away.

Sae has noticed it and, after the nth morning of dodging some make-up product sd has thrown away, offers Ryusei a hand.

Now, Sae isn't the most experienced when it comes to make-up, and his manual skills are not that good, but he still gives it a try.

He frowns and scrunches his nose in concentration as he attempts to replicate Ryusei's eyeliner. Sae is scared to accidentally stick the pen in Shidou's eye so he is extra careful with what he is doing.

The whole process takes half an hour and happens in complete silence. Ryusei is too busy looking at Sae's focused expression to start a conversation.

The result is definitely messy, asymmetrical in both shape and thickness of the line, and Sae feels like he may have worsened the situation.

Yet Shidou carefully inspects himself in the mirror and, after seconds (which to Sae feel like hours), tells Sae that he actually likes it.

He gives Sae a peck on the lips as a "thank you" and Sae replies with an uncertain "hm". A part of him knows Shidou only likes it because he was the one who made it, but neither of them will address it.

So yeah, for the next couple of weeks, Ryusei will sport an overly thick and crooked eyeliner, and he could never be happier about it.

[kitchenisking]

Day 6

No Refunds or Exchanges by badwolfbadwolf  - (Rating: Mature, Words: 18,916, sterek)

Stiles is the newest deputy in the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department, and has maybe just been a little in love with Derek Hale since Stiles had made a fool of himself in front of him at the SD summer picnic a few years ago. Being married to him—only for the sake of not getting deported—is going to suck in new and unusual ways.

Survival of the Species by Lissadiane  - (Rating: Explicit , Words: 19,370, sterek)

“I think I’m dying.” Nothing makes sense – and now Derek has left him.

“No, Mr. Stilinski,” Deaton says grimly, rooting around in his special cupboard of herbs and remedies. “I’m afraid not. You’re merely suffering from a biological imperative to bear your alpha’s children and strengthen the pack.”

Stiles considers that for a moment, as best he can with his mind a hazy mess, and then he says quietly, “I think that might be worse.”

“So, so much worse,” Scott agrees. * In which Derek's pack is apparently stable enough to begin planning for the future, and somehow, the universe has decided Stiles is the perfect candidate to bear his alpha's children.

Imagine Me And You by callunavulgari, hiza-chan (callunavulgari) - (Rating: T, Words: 16,080, sterek)

“My name,” the kid tells Derek, sounding amused. “It’s Stiles. I figure if I’m going to wrestle a complete stranger for a pumpkin the least I can do is offer my name afterwards.”

“Stiles,” Derek tries, testing the way the name sits on his tongue. “I’m Derek.”

“Derek,” Stiles breathes, like he’s testing the weight of the name too. He grins, bright and blinding, which Derek guesses means that he likes the sound of it. “I’d offer to shake your hand, but since we almost got to second base a minute ago, I’d say we’re past that point.”

Bitten Saved Pack by TheRealDanniX - (Rating: T, Words: 7,488, sterek)

Gerard didn't just rough Stiles up. He was aiming to kill. Derek can't take that. Scott doesn't like how Derek fixes it.

*nobody dies

All Coming Back, Like It Was Never Gone by LadyDrace  - (Rating: T, Words: 2,756, sterek)

Stiles and Derek spend a summer looking for Boyd and Erica. During that summer they're... something. Something that never becomes much of anything.

But then, years later, it all comes back.

Point me where my life begins by Gotta_seduce_the_Rainbow - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 39,430, sterek)

When Derek wakes up without his memory, he is left with nothing but a note he wrote himself. He no longer remembers anything personal, not himself, not anyone else.

The note is pointing him towards the town Beacon Hills and once he is there, he is greeted by strangers telling him “Dude, I didn’t know you’re back in town”, which is confusing. Apparently, he grew up in Beacon Hills, but left a few years ago without telling anyone about it.

There is this one stranger, who calls him dude and has the most amazing scent. Derek might just want to start his new life here. With this person.

Stupid Over You by Wolfspurr - (Rating: T, Words: 10,461, sterek)

It's a Friday night, and instead of enjoying any of the numerous things he'd rather be doing, Stiles has been roped into dinner with his dad at the Hale's. On the plus side, Derek Hale will be there. On the minus side, Derek Hale will be there, and Stiles already has a hard enough time not making an ass of himself in front of the hottest guy in school. There's no way this can end well.

the shape of my heart by Winchesterek - (Rating: Mature, Words: 4,807, sterek)

Stiles never thought he'd meet someone like Derek. Someone that was in a similar situation as he was - raising kids that weren't biologically his. It was even wilder because Derek was his god daughters first grade teacher and she was best friends with Derek's niece and nephew.

And Derek was hot. So hot that Stiles couldn't help ogling him every time they spent any amount of time around each other, including play dates and lunch in the school cafeteria with their kids. So Derek asking him out for Valentine's Day? That was just icing on the cake. Plus, Stiles was already head over heels for him.

My Wolf by Dexterous_Sinistrous - (Rating: T, Words: 7,654, sterek)

“If he wants to mate Stiles, why not let him?” Jackson asked, ready to part with Stiles if need be.

“Because if I did that, I’d be demoting Lydia,” Alpha Stilinski replied.

“We don’t even know how good of a Beta he is,” Lydia countered, bristling some that her status was being challenged.

“That’s because he’s not a Beta,” Alpha Stilinski stated. “He’s an Alpha.”

A Divine Move by alikatastic - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 2,138, sterek)

After Derek died, Peter was the one to let Stiles know. Stiles rushed to Beacon Hills to attend Derek's funeral and take care of Eli. When Peter takes Stiles to the Nemeton to show Stiles what happened, they make a discovery. Derek was trapped in the nemeton. All they had to do was pull him out.

[sometipsygnostalgic]

The best system to play Gameboy games on is... well... you can play them on many devices.

Officially it would be GBA SP because it can run Gameboy and GB Colour games.

However, very few backlit SPs were ever released (they are frontlit). So a better unit for Gameboy Advance games might be the DS Lite, which universally is backlit and which is lightweight enough to not cause problems. It also has better ergonomics than the SP, but I am bugged by the black borders and empty second screen.

A really popular mod is called the "Gameboy Macro", which is when you take a DS Lite lower screen and use it solely as a gameboy advance. It is a great way to recycle DS units with a broken top screen, a common issue, though it makes me cringe to think some people modify perfectly fine units this way.

The Lite also has issues with the cartridge sticking out the bottom, so many prefer using the "phat" for this purpose. The original DS is both frontlit and backlit for some reason. The image is still an improvement on frontlit SPs.

The best units to play DS and 3DS games on are... the DS and 3DS.

Specifically the best place for NDS games is the DSi XL. No non-DS device has the touchscreen versatility to run DS games well, and it's very awkward scaling the tiny screen on an emulator.

The 3DS is also not a great place for DS games. The 3DS top parallax screen is incapable of a 1:1 pixel ratio even in pixel-perfect mode, which already has the issue of black borders around the screens, making touch-based games more finicky.

It is especially apparent on the XL models but is also an issue on the smaller 3ds models.

The best unit to play DS games on is the DSi XL. It has a backlit screen and more power and memory than the first two units, making loading faster. It doesn't have the scaling issues of the 3ds, as it doesn't need to do any upscaling at all - the XL has the same number of pixels as a normal DS.

I've never used a DSi XL because all the ones sold in the UK are these ugly beige colours and they never took off, but if you don't mind the loss of the GBA slot, it's the best device for DS games.

Unfortunately DSis seem to be plagued by yellowing screens. I can tell you the small unit I just bought has some very slight yellowing on both screens.

What's the best way to play 3ds games? Well, on a 3ds obviously. It's even harder to accurately emulate 3ds games than DS games, and you lose the 3d effects altogether.

But which 3ds is best?

It depends on what you want. The 3ds more than any other Nintendo system besides the Gameboy is heavily based on preference instead of objective superiority.

To get it out the way first, while the original 3ds has the sleekest look, it's the worst one. The original 3ds and 3dsXL have a much worse 3D implementation, relying on you to stare at the screen at an odd angle.

Not only does the New3ds fix the 3d with an eye tracking sensor, it also has more power again, and a "c-stick". I also think the screens on the New3ds are of a higher quality and run flat games better too.

However the New3dsXL has some downgrades. The SD card is replaced with a microSD but now requires a mini screwdriver to access, removing the back plate. The stylus is also a really tiny one like on the DS, in an awkward place, and the metallic skin on the console will decay very quickly with use. My New3DSXL's skin started peeling under my hands after just six months of use.

The New3DSXL is the best unit to play 3ds games if you are looking to have all the features at their most optimal. It is the best by far for playing in 3d. It can also run the DS library fine, if in a poor image quality.

Personally I prefer the XL, the larger size is easier on the eyes, though the customizable panels on the hard-to-find normal size New3ds are cute too.

If you don't care for 3d, the Wedge and Doorstop may be for you.

The 2ds has all the features of a 3ds apart from the 3d, while in a wedge shape that looks dreadful but actually feels more ergonomic. It has similarities to the first Gameboy Advance and you can't tell you're holding something so tall.

The original 2DS is sold for much cheaper than the other units because Nintendo sold it for cheaper and nobody particularly wants one, so it's the most affordable way to try every game in the DS library, especially if you pair it with a jailbroken SD card. Unfortunately it still uses the 3ds screen, just with no 3d slider, so it still upscales DS games and doesn't have perfect rendering of 3ds games either, but it's harder to tell as the screen's tiny.

The New 2ds XL was the last DS ever sold, it came out after Switch. A lot of cute variants of the 2ds XL exist, and most games coming out around its release didn't have 3d enabled anyway. The feature had died in popularity, so while a 2d 3ds was originally scoffed at, in 2017 it just made sense.

While the New2ds XL looks fancy in a distance, the ergonomics are worse than any 3ds, and far worse than the wedge 2ds. The New2dsXL is all style and no substance, with the speakers being covered by the user's hands, and it's made out of a flimsy plastic. It's clear Nintendo made the materials for the hull cheaper and cheaper over time, so by the end of the 3ds's life they had gone from a very premium-feeling device to cheap plastic. The Switch would follow this design philosophy.

I do salivate over that Pikachu version and I'd enjoy trying one, but my mind tells me it's not a great device.

All told, which do I think is better? Well I think the 3ds XL having the most features is inviting for me, and I have the choice of turning off 3D. However if you want bang for your buck, the 2ds wedge might be your safest option.

Unfortunately the New 2ds XL and New 3ds XL will cost you as much as a Nintendo Switch these days. It seems that sellers have wisened up to the demand from people who missed out on the 3ds and want to try it out. There's also talk of IPS screens being better and the New2ds XL, 3ds XL and DSi XL all use IPS screens, so people are scalping them or raising prices.

[redslug]

Denoiser wisdom

Since a lot of people showed interest in my workflow of using SD like a renderer for existing sketches, I'll be sharing the little tricks I find while exploring the capabilities of SD with Neuroslug. Read the inpainting post to understand this one. When inpainting, the model takes into consideration what is already in the area it regenerates and in the areas around it. How exactly it'll follow these guidelines is determined by denoising strength. At low values it'll stick closely to the areas of color it sees and won't create anything radically different from the base. At high denoising strength it'll gladly insert colors, shapes and silhouettes that weren't there originally. Basically the more you trust your sketch the smaller your denoising strength should be. It doesn't mean you won't need the high denoising at some point. Let me explain it using yesterday's artwork. It all starts with a rough sketch.

Since I have a particular composition in mind and want it to be maintained, I'll be using a low denoising strength to fully regenerate this image.

It means that the algorithm won't have enough freedom to fix my large-scale mistakes, it's simply not allowed to change the areas of color too dramatically. So if you want to do this yourself make sure to set the image to black and white first and check that your values are working and contrast is good.

To make sure the result isn't too cartoony and flat I used brushes with strong color jitter and threw a rather aggressive noise texture over the whole thing. This'll give the denoiser a little wiggle room to sprout details out of thin air.

It kept the composition, the suggested lighting and the majority of flowers kept their intended colors too. This was denoising strength 0f 0.4. To contrast that, same base image with denoising at 0.7:

It's pretty, but it's neither the style nor composition I wanted. Let's refine the newly redrawn base to include the details that were lost in transition. These were intended to be roses.

It's here where I learned a little trick. You can mix and match different models to achieve the look you desire. Neuroslug is good at detailed moths and painterly environments. It's not good at spitting out really detailed flowers, they end up looking very impressionist which is not what I want in foreground. So, I switched to an anime focused model and let it run wild on this bush with high (0.7) denoising strength.

Nice definition, but it looks too smooth and isn't in line with what I want. Switching back to Neuroslug with denoising at 0.5 and letting it work over these roses.

This way, I get both the silhouette and contrast of the anime model (counterfeitV30) and the matching style of Neuroslug. It's also useful in cases where the model doesn't know a particular flower. You can generate an abstract flower cluster with the anime model and use the base model to remind the AI that what you want is in fact a phlox specifically. So I did this to basically every flower cluster on the image to arrive at this:

It's still a bit of a mess but it has taken me about 80% of the way there, the rest I'll be fixing up myself.

My "Lazy Foliage" brush set was really helpful for this. I'll release that one once it accumulates enough brushes to be really versatile. Now we block in the character.

Yes, I left the hands wonky since I intend to be drawing them manually later, same about the foot. There's so much opportunity for the AI to mess them up that I'd rather have all the control on these details.

When it renders the face it can really mess up everything, so I do it with low (0.45) denoising strength to discourage new eyes popping up in inappropriate places. Take note that I kept the antennae out of the mask. AI is easily confused when one subject overlaps the other.

Good, good. Wait. Why are your eyes hairy? Now, mask out the eyes, remove all mention of fur from the prompt and

That's about right. Since the eyes are all one color block I can afford to raise the denoising strength for more wild results. Same for areas of just fluff on the entire body, it's all one texture and having the denoiser at 0.6-0.75 is beneficial because it's going to add locks, stray hairs and other fluffy goodness. Just make sure to not make the mask too tight to the silhouette, it needs some space to add hairs sticking out.

With the skirt it was back to really low denoising. The folds I blocked in make sense with the position oh her legs under it, so I didn't want it to be lost.

Lastly, I drew in a flower that she's planting and ran over it with moderately high denoising to make it match the surrounding style. Ignore the biblically accurate roots there, I'll fix them by hand.

One last pass over the whole thing in Procreate. I draw the hands and add details such as the round pseudopupils, face ridges and wing markings to keep the character consistent with the previous image of her. And a bit of focal blur for a feeling of depth. Phew, even with generous use of AI this whole thing took an entire day of work. In the end what determines quality isn't the tool you use but the attention you choose to pay to finding inconsistencies and fixing them.

[woneuntonzz]

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ 𝐓𝐞𝐤 𝐈𝐭

band leader!wonbin x song writer!reader

warning/s: cussing

genre: songfic

word count: 6.7k words!!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ you just can't call a spade a spade. ⭑♪⊹ ࣪ ˖ —the debt unpaid; inspired by Cafuné's Tek It. ✩🎧ᝰ.ᐟ

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The bundles of pillows of gas, outlined with the color of the sky, had been your favorite subject in photography. It fascinated you how everything else seemed to remain in their respective placements —the sun, the stars, and the moon— everything, but the clouds. 

Though you could never say that you favored it more than the moon. 

It somehow made you feel puerile, how something so trivial as moon photographs saturating your gallery made you feel sick to the stomach. You swore that you felt icky having mostly those photographs filling your precious display.

But why then? —why are your eyes so drawn to its shine?

Maybe it is for the sole reason of the void that it fills, even more so when there are none of its little friends —the stars— to accompany it. You hated that, though you admit that the moon is humbler than the spiteful sun. At least the moon allows for you to admire it from afar and closer whilst the sun denies you from it as if it's too glorious for the eyes of man.

You didn't love the moon, but you were true to its beauty and it's granted privilege for it. People loved the moon and you just questioned it. Overlooking its scientific significance, you just thought it put the clouds to shame. A moment would come where the clouds would conceal the moon, but despite its efforts, the moon will always outshine them, even more so with its light outlining the clouds and not the color of the sky that surrounds it. The moon is selfishly beautiful —well to be fair, if you hadn't grown, you would've never realized that the clouds were never meant to be focal. 

The art of photo journaling has been your passion for as long as you can remember. From a very young memory, you were a self-proclaimed photographer who held back a sour face whenever you were asked to snap pictures for your aunts who needed a picture next to every foreign sight and object they saw.

You wished you could just take the photos with your own eyes for even with the newest DSLR —at that time— you would never be able to capture the feeling of which the true vision draws from. 

Even then you were satisfied with your work, having experienced competing in national journalism competitions from middle school till your senior year in highschool, performing exceptionally well in some seasons and satisfactory in some, overall you were content with what you have and have not achieved. 

You never aimed for your name to be displayed all over your school's walls or for it to be countlessly mentioned by any of your teacher's before actually doing their job. You just wanted to bring your visions to life.

These visions would soon take a full swing to a different direction at the very last day of vacation before starting college. 

The sky had just turned pink. You felt so lucky, so intrigued with the seamless transition that had just occurred, seamless but conspicuous. 

With your camera in hand, you captured the pink clouds and the birds that flew along with them, the scenery of the park was just pure pleasure for your eyes. 

You shifted from place to place to take picture after picture of all you found worth your camera's SD card. 

You were taking a picture of the clouds that formed a subtle shape of two hearts. It wasn't your first encounter with such enigmatic forms, but this one would stick out like a sore thumb in your gallery.

Because right below it was an unsuspecting boy —well, he appeared unsuspecting at the very least. You took a picture where he looked up at the heart-shaped clouds, only the back of his head would be visible. The next picture was of him looking right into the lenses. 

Startled, you'd move the camera away from your face and avert your attention from the boy.

The once muted ambience of your surroundings would suddenly make sounds that seemed louder than they're supposed to be. 

You wanted to look back, to look at him again. 

His smile, his eyes, it all aligned with the hue of the sky and the sweet, sweet pattern in the clouds. This was the sublime portraiture that led you to where you are now. 

You weren't a stranger to Wonbin's appeal. He had quite a line of girls and boys who were smitten over him —and for that, you didn't even think of staring at him for too long, fearing that you might find yourself daydreaming, hoping. You thought you had zero chances with him, because it's him.

He's undeniably handsome, unreal even. He got decent marks and left a good impression on his teachers when it came to oral performance. He was in a school band that mostly performed worship songs during their youth, but would eventually resort to the more popular chart songs, censoring any words when necessary. 

Many were fond of him and just as much were jealous. 

“Good-looking, talented, and smart? there must be a jerk in him.” —you've heard from one of the many low-lives in your class that sat at the back. 

Maybe it was true. It was quite an impossibility for him to just be that good. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“What do you think of me?”

“Perfect.” you spoke, nearly spewing it as a question. 

“I'm not.” you laughed at him for wearing such a bashful smile as he replied. “I really am not.”

After that day at the park where you had accidentally snapped a picture of him in the most beautiful scene you have ever captured, you were captured by his allure. 

The way his hair danced with the wind and the leaves of the maple trees, the sight was all too heavenly. You were overwhelmed with the feelings that rushed through your veins, you felt like you needed to let it all out, one way or another. 

When you got home, you sat on your bed with your laptop sitting on top of your thighs. You stared at the loading status of your exporting photos that you captured earlier that day and a few days prior. 

Seeing his photo was all it took for you to start jotting down words, expressing how spellbound you are towards his presence. 

You hummed the melody you heard earlier at the park as he looked at you. It was like the breeze was singing for the two of you, and the sounds of the leaves that fell together in a beat that followed your heart's.

You were certain it was only you who's melting over such a small matter. 

Regardless, you wrote something, a poem. But you like to refer to it as your first song, and it follows the tune of the air that whispered to you.

“I like you, Wonbin.” 

It was scary. To remain standing there for what felt like a day, you thought you'd go home with red eyes and bottled tears. 

His hand slowly reaching up to hold yours gave you the thrills.

“I like you too, Y/n.” 

It was unbelievable, even for your friends. It's Park Wonbin, the Park Wonbin that could never spare people a minute of his time for insignificant matters, being too absorbed with music and the idea of creating a masterpiece of his own. He liked you? 

“You… like me?” you pointed your shaky finger on yourself.

He gently rubbed at the skin on your hands. “No doubts, beautiful.”

You would subconsciously scoff at people who called you pretty because people would often use it to ask for favors. You wondered, was this him asking for a favor? a favor to use you? to only want you when he needed you?

You wrote about these thoughts later that night, and that would be your second song you called 'Blissful but Bittersweet'.

These feelings would be subsided on your very first date. He took you to the studio where he and his band practiced and recorded studio versions of their covers that they'd upload anywhere they could. 

You two were the only ones in the studio at that time. 

For a while, you were both hesitating on looking into each other's eyes, or starting a conversation. When his eyes caught the lights of the studio and glimmered like fairy light, you couldn't look away. You had the tendency to stare and hold at the things that seemed too good to be true.

Just being there with him was all too good to be true.

He stared back at you, his eyes explored your features, breaking you out of your trance. And there he asked you what you thought of him. 

The way he responded to your answer made you think that he knew, he knew the effect he had on everyone else. But you hoped that he saw you differently, different from everyone else that blushed and gushed over him.

“I think your photographs are as beautiful as you.” he spoke as he set up the amplifier for his guitar. “It's your trademark I think.”

You were flushed, but even more confused. “What do you mean?” 

“I would know when a photo was taken by you.” His voice was like a bass line to a soul song.

It was true. He'd been noticing you for a while. He was amazed with how great your works in photojournalism were, he admired your passion for photography, turning even the most tragic elements into such beautiful imagery. 

Those things however, weren't the only basis for his fascination. 

He saw how diligent you were, how you seemed so happy and content with your school life. If it seemed as if he paid no care for the people who whispered for days and days with no end because his eyes would be darted towards god-knows-what, his ears were open for them.

The things he's heard being said about you were endless and repetitive praise, and some backhanded 'worries' they had for you. 

“I don't think Y/n actually has a life outside of the competitions”

“I know right, it's kind of sad. Must be boring, and her friends are no different. Might as well just be government officials.”

“She should let loose a little, maybe then someone would show interest in her.” — and quiet laughter.

He couldn't suppress a scoff, and later a rumor would spark that Park Wonbin had a crush on campus journalist Y/n. 

You never knew about it since you were out of the country for nationals, and when he told you, you had raised eyebrows.

It was only now that he could admire the elegance of your features. Your eyes and their unique shape, the soft curve of your cheeks and its tint, and your velvet lips. 

He had never seen you under a different light before, what he was seeing now went beyond what he could imagine. 

You would write again after that date, and this time you had an actual melody to follow, it was of his guitar's. He played a 'scrap piece' —as he would call it— and asked you if it sounded alright. 

He felt all warm and fuzzy inside when you enthusiastically answered. “I loved it!”

Your full voice made his heart bounce in and out of his chest. He thought, if only, if only he could incorporate your sugared voice into his music. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Are these yours?” you rushed over to Wonbin to recover your personal journal.

When you'd get it from him, it was turned to a page where you had written about your shared first kiss. 

“Uh, yeah.” you gulped when you heard his chuckle.

“You're a wonderful writer too?” you looked up, expecting to see him standing and towering over your very existence.

But he was just as flushed as you were. “They're songs.”

The luminosity of his eyes lit up the room.

“Can you sing them for me?”

He listened to the melodies you have grasped out of pure memory, memories you've had with him.

It wouldn't take a while for him to figure out the meaning of the songs, and somehow, he was surprised to hear,

“They're all about you.”

The feelings that Wonbin had put you through —without his perception— were feelings you have never felt before in your life. Having control over these foreign feelings, somehow, meant taking on new mediums of expression for you. 

You would continue to write songs about your moments with him, all the little and more. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were both in your sophomore year in the same music and arts university. Your courses had apparent distinctions, but you two would share the same few classes together.

“I feel like I should be taking Composition instead of Media Arts.” you mumbled at the top of his head. 

The lecture hall was empty, you two took your time before leaving like everybody else. 

He had himself in between your arms and wrapped yours around him, like how dubiety wrapped around your brain and made it ache for that cause. 

“If you feel like it's the right thing, you definitely should, right? if Composition would help you to a point in your life where you're sound and happy, go for it.” he says, looking up at you with glistening eyes.

Wonbin was always the one to be in your arms and would often bury his face in the crook of your neck, taking in the whole of your warmth. You felt like his sanctuary, and likewise, he was yours.

Taking you to the studio became a routine for him, as a means of spending time with you. He would practice while you watched as his fingers moved rhythmically in a pace faster than your heartbeat. 

And it was with you that he'd first share his own solos and ask for your honest opinions. You were in awe every time. You had nothing but compliments to throw at him whenever he asked,

“Was it good?”

“It's incredible, Bin.” 

While he practiced, you wrote. 

It was a whole other experience to have him play for you as you observed and take in all of him, taking note of his delicate handling of his guitar, the sweat that would gradually build up and stick to his hair, and how he'd close his eyes, fully immersed in the music. 

Music resonates well with the two of you, it's like your own language, the one you shared and cherished by heart, the foundation of your relationship. 

“Let me see.” he'd say as he rests his chin atop of your head from behind you. 

You'd raise your journal to his sight, and you could feel his smile as he wrapped his arms around you.

“You make me feel so loved.” he whispers as he places a soft kiss on your jaw before once again burying his face in your neck. 

You'd always run your fingers through his hair, telling him that he makes you feel the same way, always. 

You loved Wonbin for everything he was —a musician, your best friend, your boyfriend. 

And for a long time, he'd been the Park Wonbin who owned a band, and owned your heart. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Going forward, you would change courses from Media Arts to Composition. You were back to square one. 

This is where your heart had led you to, where he had given you his full support and encouragement. 

Your schedules would crash because of the drastic shift, but still, you found ways to meet as much as you could. There were times where seeing each other wouldn't be possible, so you'd resort to calls instead. You two would talk to each other until you could hear his soft snores.

And when he'd wake up in the morning, he would apologize to you for falling asleep on you and you would always make sure to tell him that it's okay.

He would later take you to the studio again, but this time, there were others; his bandmates. 

It was your first time hanging around them, but you thought they were nice. The teasing was something you were never going to get used to, but Wonbin was relieved to have you by his side. 

He kept you close to him as he practiced, he took more breaks than retakes. He kept making mistakes at different points of their practice and would call for a break everytime —and each time, he went and sat next to you, laying his head on your shoulder as you delved your fingers in his hair. 

“Hey, Bin, you should really focus on your practice. This is for the finals —and I know you're tired, but your bandmates are tired too.” you whispered ever so softly into his ear.

It soothed him, and so he took a deep breath. “I will, starting this very minute.” He sits up and looks at you. He cups your face with his hands and leaves a kiss on your lips and on your forehead. “I just missed you so, so much.”

He goes back to practice, and he listens to you. He fixed himself up and focused. By the end of it they were able to finish practicing three songs.

He took you home to your dorm room, and asked if he could stay. Of course you could not reject him. You two would be all up on each other, all night.

Unfortunately for him, the next day won't be as pleasant as expected.

“Our bassist left.” He got up from your bed and stood near the edge, looking and scrolling on his phone. “That motherfucker.”

Your eyes widened. It wasn't that you've never heard him curse, it's his tone. It was frightening. You knew it wasn't for you —and hoped it would never be— but it made you think of the worse, what could be, and what would be.

“Where are we gonna find a fucking bassist? the competition is in three days.” he threw his head back as he ran his hand through his hair, clasping onto its ends out of disappointment and frustration. “That fucking asshole.” he muttured under his breath.

He turned to look at you, and he wished he shouldn't have. 

You had the face of an angel, and that angel, now, appears to be bewildered, petrified even. 

He sighed, bringing his eyes to the side. He stood there for a couple more seconds before he got his stuff, getting ready to leave.

“I'll go. I'm sorry Y/n, but I won't be around until I find a bassist that's competent.” he bluntly says before leaving, not shutting the door behind him —for he was afraid that if he did, he'd do it too hard and make you feel bad for it. 

You would go on for days without contact. You tried messaging him, but he left you on read. He would reply 16 hours later with: sorry y/n, we're really struggling here.

You stared at his message for hours. You didn't want to respond, so as to not further disturb him. After a few more hours, you'd receive a call from him.

“Bin?” you softly called for him as soon as you picked up.

“We found a bassist. We're practicing real hard since we really need to get it together. We're finished now, but we'll be back in the studio in a few hours. The bassist —she's great.” you nodded to yourself as you listened to him.

You didn't want to be that type of girlfriend, but you badly wanted to ask who this 'she' is. “Oh, who is she?”

“A freshman —so, how have you been?” Wonbin seemed to be speaking a little faster than normal.

You started to wonder whether he even truly wanted to talk to you in the first place. It took you a while to reply to him, you were once again stuck with such overwhelming feelings, having the need to jot them all down.

“Y/n?” 

“Bin—”

“You must be tired. Let's talk tomorrow, yeah? I'll call you when I wake up. Rest, beautiful.” 

Your eyes paced around everywhere. “I'm sorry Bin.”

“Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for. If anything, it's me who should be sorry.” he remained quiet for a while and you could slightly hear his breathing.

“Goodnight Bin. Please sleep well.” the hand that held his phone trembled slightly at the dim symphony of your voice. 

“Goodnight Y/n.” he weakly replied before letting you go and ending the call.

On your bed, you lie on your back, eyes wandering the ceiling as if there were more to the tiny cracks and the dormant light bulb. Unable to bring yourself to a slumber, you got up and went to your desk. 

You laid out your journal, opening to a fresh page. You let the tip of your pen hover over it for a few minutes, before you let it all go. 

We started off in such a nice place,

We were talking the same language.

A teardrop would make its way onto the paper, causing the ink of your pen to smudge.

You weren't meant to finish this song just yet.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was finally the day of the competition you've long awaited. You hurried to the front seats, excited to see him perform, to hear his fervent voice, excited to just be able to see him again.

When there were others performing onstage, you tried peeping at the back, or somewhere behind the stage where you'd spot him. You were never able to, not until they were up next. 

He saw you and waved. You waved back, hesitant as their new bassist appeared beside him. 

They looked… perfect.

You zoned out. Your head would start blocking off the music, and all you could hear was your weak heart. You felt conflicted, the first time it palpated like this, it was for good reason, but now, it seems to be the opposite. 

When it was their turn to perform, you watched as they exchanged looks. Their charisma shook your core, and suddenly, you hated yourself for not knowing how to play bass.

You watched, and Wonbin would lay his eyes on you as he sang —but it within a span of a few seconds he fixed his gaze on the bassist, as they once again gave each other looks that made you sink into your seat. 

After their performance, you would find yourself clapping, standing up like everyone else, the only difference being that you were crying. Wonbin saw, but he couldn't tell if they were tears of joy or something else. 

They would be announced champions by the end of the day, and you couldn't be more proud. Wonbin would find you in the crowd, smiling as he slightly waved the trophy in his hand. You smiled back, just happy with what he's achieved. But you couldn't help but notice that something in the air was changing.

Later that night, Wonbin took you with him to their celebratory dinner. He held your hand tight, caressing your skin with his thumb as you both entered the restaurant. 

His bandmates were already seated nicely and the only seats left were ones next to their drummer, and the other, next to the bassist. When they saw you, their bassist would move next to the drummer, and Wonbin would sit across from her, with you next to him.

You were happy that they were all happy, and while eating, you would get over your thoughts from earlier. 

Your smile would slowly dissipate into the unmindful air feeling Wonbin's grasp becoming looser and looser as time flew by.

You looked over to him, and you saw the sweetest and most seraphic smile you've ever seen him wear. It was just a shame that it was not because of you. 

You grew insecure in your seat, the space you occupied shrinked by the second as you watched how differently their eyes reacted to one another —how different it was compared to how he looked at you. 

“Bin, I need to go home.” you touched his shoulder to get his attention.

He quickly turned his head to look at you. “Oh, I'll take you home—”

“No.” You spoke a little louder than intended. “Sorry, no need. I'll get going now, I have things to finish.” 

You stood up, expecting him to grab your hand to stop you as you walked away towards the exit. But he didn't. 

Were you asking for too much now? or are you just not enough anymore? 

You took slow and miniscule steps, waiting for a taxi to pass by. Once it did, you got in, feeling so dejected that your voice cracked when you gave the taxi driver the address to your dorms. 

Maybe you were overthinking things. Maybe you're just not used to him being as smiley and as lively as he was around other girls that weren't you. It had been like that since the beginning of your relationship, and yet you felt as if you had no right to doubt him.

By the end of the day, you'd be back at your desk, tear-filled, feebly writing down,

You can't stand the thought,

Of a real beating heart you'd be holding...

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Y/n! we got a record deal!” 

The thrill, the excitement, it all rushed through Wonbin, in his blood. He had called you early in the morning after receiving a call from a recording label.

“That's great, Bin.” Wonbin's smile would die out with the tone of your voice.

“Hey, are you okay?” he suddenly thought about the previous night with you, two nights ago.

“Yeah. I've just been really busy. Congrats Bin!” he bit his bottom lip, staring into nothing feeling your frailty.

“I'm coming to visit you.” he says nonchalantly.

“You don't have to Bin, I'm really b—”

“I can help—”

“Wonbin.” —silence.

You never called him 'Wonbin' throughout the entirety of your relationship, even when the two of you would argue. It left a stinging pain in his heart. “Y/n.”

“I'm sorry Bin. I know you have your own stuff going on so would you please jus—”

“Was this about the other night?” despite your efforts to respond, not a single word came out of you. “Look, I don't even know why you left, why don't you communicate things with me anymore?”

Fear. You feared this tone of his that you never thought he'd take out on you. You feared the eyes you could not see, glaring at your phantom in his studio. You feared his heart, his heart that would no longer yearn for you even if you called for him. You feared losing him.

“Y/n, speak to me. Please.” urgency was apparent in his voice, but you could also hear his disappointment.

“How? Tell me how, Wonbin.” you would break as his name fell off your lips, your tears falling down to your blanket that reeks of his scent. “I don't fucking know how, okay?”

From this moment on, you were able to see just how flawed your relationship truly is. Behind all the affections, you two were just too different. Sometimes, different can be good —there's a thing they call 'opposites attract'— but sometimes, people don't need different. 

It was not that the two of you stray far from each other's passions, heck, it was your passion that brought the two of you together. But rather, it was your values that contrasted with each other. 

He thought you were just as infatuated as he was, all the while you were thinking that you were all he needed.

Yes, he was the most comfortable with you, but his happiness was not you. He felt relieved by your touch, your voice —but he would never admit that that is all it was for him, a sense of relief and nothing more. 

He was thankful for everything you've given him, all the comfort, the nagging for him to take care of himself, the photos you've taken of him and hung on your little cork board, and the songs. He was genuinely touched and couldn't believe that you could get any more incredible than you already were. 

Unfortunately, you thought more of him, memorizing every bit of him, his physique and his very psyche. 

You two would resolve your argument, temporarily. 

He would begin to visit you again regularly, and take you to their studio, a new one, one that would be in a bigger building. And just like that building, everything was different. 

Your whole life, you've learned to fight change, to adapt with ease, but this was one you did not want to adapt into. It was one you wanted to escape.

You missed the way his fingers would play with the shorter strands if your hair that rested at the sides of your head as he rests himself on you. You missed the warmth in his voice, and now it was all fading into nothing. That fire in your hearts that you lit up for each other, it was slowly dying out. 

It was painful to be aware when you were still so in love, when you still saw the same Wonbin that one fateful day at the park. 

You knew that he knew. During his visits to your dorm room, he'd often doze off, and would lazily leave sloppy kisses to your lips, that would slowly become light pecks on your cheek, and soon nothing. 

When he took you to his studio, he would be practicing, and she'd be there too. You would be in your own little corner, writing your songs. 

“Hi Y/n, what are you up to in there?” she would ask, peeking at your journal.

“Oh, I'm writing songs.” she was a nice person, but she was also the reason for the falling out of your relationship, it was crystal-clear.

“You should seriously consider showing some to the producers around here. I feel like they'd love your work.” as nice as she sounded, you felt sick in the stomach, just like how those stupid moon photographs made you feel.

She and Wonbin, they were both like the moon, just letting others take in all of their physiognomy, all of their beauty. They remain unmoved, as if they're the pillar to everybody's constancy. 

They fit each other. —you thought to yourself as you kept writing.

I never could rely on you,

And a few times your face came into view, 

Into view.

I'm not into you,

Into you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It's been a good while since you've cut ties with him. You found it amusing how surprised he was with how you responded to his notion.

“I don't think we should continue being together, Y/n.” he blinked a few times, not having the heart to look into your eyes like he used to anymore.

“Yeah, I know.” you were so blunt with everything that he couldn't believe that it was really you who was speaking to him. “I'll bring you the stuff you left at my dorm. I'll just leave it here.”

You were in their studio, where he had asked you to meet him.

“I could just get it myself—”

“I'll spare you the trouble Wonbin.” you were so cold, it sent shivers down his spine. You were no longer the intelligent and timid girl he knew. “It's great to know you've been feeling the same way all along, if not, I would've felt bad for ever doubting you.”

A single tear would escape his eye, and he'd wipe it away before you could see it. 

“Thank you for…” you fished for his gaze, and you would catch it like never before. “...everything.”

You went out of their studio and started making your way out of the building with your journal in hand. 

The journal. It was full of him. From polaroids and sketches, to the lyrics that brought you to where you are. 

You were glad he finally came to his senses, that he was the one to break it up. If he never did, it would've taken you ages to blurt it out, or maybe you never would've done it. 

As your feet followed the same path you took going in, you could feel the hot tears flowing continuously. The last you would see as you stepped out of the building was her. Worry was written all over her face as she called for you once, twice. You looked back at her for an agonizing and very few seconds before completely turning your back from her.

That day was excruciating for you. You could only imagine, he already had her to comfort him, and you? you were still in the same spot, pouring all of your feelings out into a song. 

After a few lengthy months of practicing with your guitar, you were able to make a full song.

You recorded it within the confines of your dorm room. You were again satisfied with your work. It was a simple, homey video. Your voice was as soft as the clouds, and your presence was like that of the sun, bright, shining against the woe of your heart.

You posted the video to YouTube, even providing them with the lyrics you've put your whole heart into in the description box. 

At first, you didn't really think you'd get as much as fifty views, three likes and maybe one petty dislike. Either way, you didn't really care. It was the least of your worries at the time. 

You were planning to move back to Media Arts, in spite of him. You moved courses because of him, and now you are moving back another step for it. 

Though, your plans would be halted when you were approached by a deceptive man —what made him deceptive? you may ask, well, you would've never thought that this man worked for the same recording label that your ex was in.

“What do you want?” you spat.

“Okay, miss. I'm Jung-Sung-Chan. I've been in the xxxx label for two years now. So, I saw your song—”

“And what about it?” your voice was stern, and it seemed as though it was atypical for him as it did not match your appearance at all.

“So, there's this band, don't know if you've heard of them—”

“Is it 'Everiizing'?” he was flabbergasted with how you just kept cutting him off when he was supposedly the one to be intimidating you.

“Uh, yeah.”

He would go on to explain how the band had been struggling to come up their next hit single and they needed it by the end of the month. You told him off by saying that you'd think about it, and think about it, you did. 

It was quite funny, Wonbin would be the one singing since he was the vocal of the band, and he would be singing a song that you wrote and composed about him and the fallout of your relationship.

But you also thought, maybe this was a start for your own career. Maybe after this, you'd be a well known song writer, credited in every hit song in the charts. 

You would call Sungchan back and tell him you've made up your mind.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

So I started to think 'bout the plans I made,

The debt unpaid.

And you just can't call a spade a spade.

Wonbin read through the lyrics of their supposed upcoming single. He couldn't help but feel… familiar. The style of writing, the choice of words, he feels like he'd seen it all before, and he'd felt it all once upon a time. 

“The writer is Y/s/n Y/n.” Wonbin's breath hitched, very subtly that he was the only one that heard. “I saw her on YouTube —that's where we discovered that song. She agreed to sell it to us.”

“The song is on YouTube?” Wonbin asked as he grabbed his phone from the table in front of him.

“Yeah, that's what I said.”

He searched for your name, and there it was. He hurriedly tapped on your video, and watched, and listened. 

You never changed in his eyes. You were still as mesmerizing as you were when he could still have you in his embrace, or when you'd massage his hair.

“So what do you think?” he ignored Sungchan and kept his eyes and ears on his phone, following every note and every strum. 

“Wonbin?” —for a minute, he thought it was you who called for his name, but then he looked up.

“Paige.” he responds to their bassist. 

“I listened to Y/n's song. It's really a masterpiece, I say we try recording it now.” Paige, with pure excitement, would cling onto Wonbin, and he would look at her the way you would want him to look at you.

Sungchan knew, because you had told him everything. It was weird to tell a stranger about these things, but if he was buying your song, he should at least know the story behind it, right?

That day, Wonbin would record his vocals for the song, and Sungchan would be there to monitor. Wonbin seemed so emotional. He must've realized what the lyrics truly meant, and it punched him right in his guts. 

This is all she's been feeling huh —he uttered in his mind as he fought back his sorrow.

Sungchan had spared you the details of everything that went down in the recording, and soon they would release their own version of the song, and it would be theirs.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“...we have 'Everiizing', to perform their new hit single, 'Tek It'!”

You were once again, at the same seat you'd always be when he performed, but this time, you were happy. It was your creation being recognized and loved by many. Its story will remain in your memories forever, but it will never cause resentment.

You couldn't help but smile and just enjoy the music. They were the same —if not better than before. Wonbin and Paige were truly a different story. They seem to be doing great. You had no idea if they actually got together, but you didn't care. 

There was a lingering feeling for sure, but it would fall weak knowing that you have a line of opportunities ahead of you, and so did Wonbin and his band.

After their performance he would go on to acknowledge your presence, giving you credit for writing and composing such a beautiful song, though of course, he would never say you were his ex and you wrote it about him.

You two would meet again backstage, for the first time in almost a year.

“Y/n.” you smiled, not for the same reason as you would with him, it was because he failed to have the same effect on you as he did before, and it brought your mind to peace.

“Wonbin.” he would smile back, but it was quite not like himself.

He was a lot more tentative. “I'm guessing you've been well.”

You nod at him and say, “I could say the same about you.”

“So, will you continue to work under xxxx?” he asked hesitantly.

“You know I would never do that even if things ended a little better.” he would drop his smile as he listened to you speak. “I'm moving to Sungchan's label. He's starting one of his own. Might consider being an artist myself, but for now I'll finish my studies.”

Wonbin was once again fascinated with your strong will, it was something he thought he could learn from you, but as soon as forever was promised, it would disintegrate right before your eyes. 

The promises of making songs together, singing them together, performing them with your souls intertwined. They were nothing but long gone.

Wonbin is the moon, and you're the sun. The two are never meant to meet, or to even be close to each other. Being opposites was never a problem, it was because you two had different understandings of what it meant for you to flourish and shine, what your purpose is in this world and how you would salvage it —it is the sad tale of the serene but incredibly fallible moon, and the ravishing sun, that's just as tainted.

And there would be no more eclipses to follow. 

I never thought we'd see it through.

So long nice to know you, I'll be moving on.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

happy hearts day <333

[siremasterlawrence]

Celebrity Exchange Program

As a up and coming actor who proudly just joined the SAG (Screen Actor’s Guild) for the first time and I am offered a chance to be a test for the pilot program where I can use a Human Exchange Program.I had a signed a strange waver that is a gold paper with a specialized pen as the gold like paper erupts in to fire and throwing it from my hand as it disintegrates before my very eyes.I shake my head forgetting as I exit the SAG office I receive a pamphlet from the agent at the desk and I flip through it as I head home a key falls from the pamphlet with instructions on it.I flip through it as the introduction page is stating that I have entered a super hot type of exchange program where I get to switch my body with any celebrity I choose to try experience.I use the sd card shape like a key placing it into the laptop as the screen turns deep odd gold color scheme and I am sent in to a new typo of interface and I found myself seeing the options.I skim down the list with of celebrities I can inhabit for a few days I find myself lusting after each you and for different reasons of course my main squeezes are married or dating so it’s a no.Colton Haynes listing himself on the system which leaves me floored and I immediately click it to the main page showing me his face and all of her naked picks of him on full display.I press agree after scrolling down the page for God knows who long finally I signed on the dotted line and begin feel the full weight of my actions.I ignore my own feelings it heading to bed as I fell in to a deep sleep my spirit lifts from my body into the air and floating through the window and passing a strange orb I am assuming is Colton Haynes entering mybody.Everything goes black as my body continue floating into the air speeding up as his air around my soul catch fire and I land through a window and enter it hitting some strong body.The body falling backwards onto the bed rock hard sending me a coma my body is beginning to shake convulsing out of control and I wake up with my eyes popping open up.I sit back up thrusting my legs into the air as she lands a bit, my head is groggy coming towards me walking to the mirror, and he is fluctuating this body hitting the mirror in a thud.I come to looking up to the mirror to see him it’s Colton’s face I am touching and I am so feeling fantastic as I strip naked to showing his body on showcase this is my body now forever.I check my body landing onto my chest as they let them spread feeling every inch and crevice of his body and I knew he felt that even in body but just spun it to the side to head into the bathroom.Letting my clothes fly into the air as I enter the bathroom closing the door behind me, switching the knob of the side as the shelf flows down raining over me and begin to soap up.The soap in my hand is place back as I am lathering myself up to the point suds are now everywhere and I enjoy the heat of the water wash over me and it felt so amazing to me.I do dance as I am getting a bit more of his confidence knowing I am super fucking hot now and their is nothing they can do to stop me and cleaning myself off with a towel as the steam rises.I am a new man stepping out of the shower drying my feet and into a pair of slippers as I walk out and the steam flowing into my main bedroom.

“Oh My God!”

“I am a stun”

“Look this face”

“This body is perfection”

“I am about to go out “

“Flash this smile “

“Flirt”

“Get some ass”

“Claim someone “

“They won’t know what hit them”

“I won’t be shy “

“I am so tired of being misunderstood “

“What’s his passcode”

“Oh right! Boop boop boop”

“Excellent! Let’s download some app”

“Set your profile”

“Take a few pics “

“Hit me up bitches “

“Time to get dressed “

“This polo shirt is it “

“Nice pair of jeans”

“Grab my shit “

“Almost forgot my keys “

“Here we go”

“Hello! Yes”

“This is Colton Haynes”

“I will be at this restaurant in five minutes “

“I need to get a private table at your restaurant.”

“This is Colton Haynes”

“Yes sir!”

“I’m on my way “

“Baby!”

“Move! “

“The main main is here”

“I’m here “

“Hello Sir!”

The end

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

An SDS radical once wrote, "The issue is never the issue. The issue is always the revolution." In other words, the cause - whether inner city blacks or women - is never the real cause, but only an occasion to advance the real cause which is the accumulation of power to make the revolution. -- David Horowitz

https://alphahistory.com/chineserevolution/red-guards/

The Cultural Revolution was driven by the Red Guards, a mass movement encouraged and directed by Mao Zedong. They became Mao’s power base as he reinstalled himself as leader of both party and nation while purging the party of his critics and competitors. Comprised mostly of fanatical students, the Red Guards (Hongweibing) began to take shape in June 1966, following the national publication of a student protest in Beijing University. Within weeks they had mobilised into a political militia, their numbers exceeding 10 million. Motivated by Mao’s slogans “It is right to rebel” and “Bombard the headquarters”, the Red Guards attacked anyone and anything they considered a threat to Mao or his socialist vision. Nobody was safe: not bureaucrats or administrators, not party chiefs, not provincial politicians, not even president Liu Shaoqi. For a year these militant students created what Mao himself called a “great chaos under heaven”. When the Red Guards became even more radical and violent in 1967, it was Mao himself who authorised military action to suppress them.

Sound familiar?

Believe them when they tell you what they're up to.

[maleficentmrsofallevil]

Another cheap thing I adore for BJD displays: plant stands.

The ones Tar-zhey and Home Despot sell for $5 or less. Sometimes they look like little benches; other times, little bar stools. Around February, they're heart-shaped. And they're the perfect size for SDs. MSDs, too, if you can find stacked sets with smaller ones.

[tinyozlion]

“Tallgeese”: Why Is It Called That?

Okay, so, I have a theory. 

 Bear with me a moment.  As far as I know, I’m the only person who thinks this might be the reason why the Tallgeese is called Tallgeese; I don’t know if it’s the RIGHT reason, but at least it's an explanation I think is etymologically and contextually feasible:

--If I may draw your attention to my man Tallgeese’s shield for a moment: you will see that it is a small, round buckler. Tallgeese is styled with a very fetching crest reminiscent of a Greek hoplite, and hoplites did indeed carry a round shield called an aspis. 

(Image from the Harvard collection)

However! There is another kind of small, round shield that was used in less ancient times called a targe, or targa, or the diminutive target, where we get the word “target" from. The targe was a shield used largely for jousting and dueling– something the Tallgeese excels at!

When full plate armor was developed around the late 14th century, knights switched from using large, triangular shields, to the smaller and variously shaped targe shields, specifically for the sport of jousting¹. If you're looking at shields from medieval Europe in a museum you'll see a lot of fancy-shaped ones labeled targes.

Much later, it became synonymous with the Scottish targe, which is a regular combat shield and not a jousting shield, but it shares the same name and more importantly, is a small, round buckler typically used with a sword-- like the Tallgeese uses!

(A Highland targe exhibited in the National Museum of Scotland)

--Which leads me to my main point:

If you were looking up cool words for round or otherwise knightly shields, you might well come across the word “targe”. And if you pass the word “targe”(especially if you pronounce the final ‘e’) or “targes” through a Japanese phonetic filter, you might well get something close to “Tōrugisu” (トールギス), which is the name of our mobile suit.

…It might not be the canonical explanation for the Tallgeese’s name (to the best of my knowledge, there isn’t one²) but at least it’s slightly more relevant to its theming than is a waterfowl of alarming height-- though perhaps only a tenth as horrifying on the field of battle. 

...Still I hear it in my dreams; the fell slapping of orange feet, the distant honk, the snapping beak...

________________

1) "The Seven Shields of Behaim: New Evidence": Metropolitan Museum Journal, v. 30, Nickel, Helmut (1995)

2) The Gundam Fan Wiki states in its Trivia section that: “The name Tallgeese is derived from the word "theurgist" (トールギスト), a ritualist who attempts to channel divine power to work miracles”. This is apparently from one of the SD Gundam games? Anyway, I find this source to be INCREDIBLY DUBIOUS.

[youremyheaven]

Barbara Palvin: Kibbe Analysis

Many people believe Barbara is a curvy FN and most people are of the belief that all models are FNs simply because they're all tall. while this is broadly true, there are many exceptions to this. one prominent example is Barbara Palvin who is a Soft Dramatic.

Barbara was dropped by Victoria's Secret (and brought back briefly) and often described as a "plus size model". She does not have a standard FN model build and is more curvy.

Left: Barbara Palvin

Right: Charlize Theron (verified FN)

Do you see the difference in the shape and structure of their bodies? Barbara is 5'8 and Charlize is 5'10, while Barbara has a small defined waist, rounded hips, fleshy thighs and bust that breaks the line of her body. Charlize has a broad body frame and her bust is contained within it, she has straight hips and lean thighs. She's more athletic looking than Barbara who has a softer, fleshier body.

Left: Barbara Palvin

Right: Brooke Shields (verified FN)

Barbara has a curvy body with fleshy thighs and arms, a full bust and full rounded hips whereas Brooke has a more athletic body with taut lean arms and thighs and neither her bust nor her hips are prominent.

unfortunately she almost never dresses for her Kibbe ID

Barbara has Dramatic, Romantic & Ingenue essence and I feel like she's always leaning towards the latter in favour of the former.

these outfits are the closest she's ever come to dressing as an SD, especially the red gown in the middle

these are some outfits that don't flatter her although they emphasize her essences. this is because they're not harmonious with her body. when we dress we have to dress for our face and body.

L to R

Marlene Dietrich (verified SD)

Raquel Welch (verified SD)

Barbara Palvin

Maria Callas (verified SD)

You can see how all these women have a combination of yang/ sharp and yin/soft features. SDs are described as having full, lush "exotic" features. They always have full lips and a very prominent eye area.

Barbara leans heavily into her Ingenue essence (like Lisa) and I think that's where a lot of her fashion faux pas moments come from 💀Like ma'am you're 5'8 with strong features that contribute to Romantic/Dramatic essence, PLEASE accommodate that into your lewks as well!!<3

compare these above looks with these ones

obvs none of these are SD looks exactly but they still emphasize the Romantic/Dramatic essence she has compared to the frilly girly dresses she chooses to wear most of the time😩

Also I've noticed how a lot of people struggle with typing celebs who have Ingenue/ Gamine essence, esp if they're tall but I'll make a separate post about that.

[seecarrun]

‘Dude, are you in SD? I have a gig at the laugh factory tonight’

Eddie looks around, like he may see Richie sitting at one of the tables stuffed into the San Diego Hyatt Grand Hall room, chowing down in a plate of cheap, stale conference bagels along with all the other corporate stiffs in attendance, but obviously he doesn’t, so he types back a quick reply.

‘Yeah. Here for a conference.’ He pauses, then adds, ‘How tf did you know I’m here??’

After making sure no one is looking at him, he also tacks along a selfie of him looking bored out of his mind and eating a shitty mini muffin, surrounded by equally bored looking fellow middle aged white dudes in suits.

Richie immediately laughs at the picture and replies, ‘Me n Bev added Find my Friends on all your phones last Christmas lol. Wtf do you even do at a risk analysts conference?? 🤣🤣🤣’

Eddie bites back a smirk and takes another selfie, this time holding up his badge so the Speaker flair ribbon is in the frame. ‘Present a shitty fucking Google Slides presentation on how cyber insurance shapes incident response, motherfucker. 😎’

‘Omg’ Richie responds immediately. ‘When do you present? I need to be there. I’ll bring an air horn and pom poms”

‘Don’t you DARE, you dickhead!’ he texts back. But then also adds, ‘…1:30. Second level, corridor II, room H.’

It ends up being the most ridiculous but hilarious and fun presentation of Eddie’s life.