#you're ruining the composition

[thelikesoffinn]

Those three really are having their very own magical girl moment, eh.

[pinkopalina]

the storm

[vergess]

Image description:

Photograph of a pile of rubble, mostly bricks and concrete. In the background, smoke or fog drifts past leafless trees. A massive sign reading "BEAUTY" dominates the image, with rubble covering anything else that might have been said.

End of description.

[dragon-ascent]

It's been so long since Zhongli got to take you on a date, and like hell he'd let anything stop him today.

It's finally time for a date; you two have cleared schedules after so long! You're to meet Zhongli directly after work atop a nice scenic hill for an evening picnic. Your husband is to head up there first to set everything up and make sure the picnic spread is as perfect as can be. So there goes Zhongli, basket in hand filled with all sorts of treats, trudging up the hill with a smile on his face.

Zhongli's smile quickly fades as he looks up, brow furrowing at the darkening skies. Must it look like rain, today of all days?

Not to worry. He can will the clouds to part whenever he summons his meteor - so he does just that, his tianxing hurtling through the clouds that come apart like wads of cotton, creating a hole directly above the hill. The rest of the sky remains intact. Then, before his heavenly meteor can collide with the earth, he commands it to burst into a million specks of stardust. They stay suspended in the air, shimmering. Much better.

He continues his journey up the hill, when in his periphery he spots a gleaming knife whizzing through the air. He dodges it effortlessly, throwing up his shield - his lip curls in displeasure when a gang of Treasure Hoarders make themselves known, precious little in their eyes beyond greed.

"Forgive me, but I do not have the time to spare for your antics." Zhongli worries that the basket might be smooshed if he gets into a scuffle, so he continues on; the thieves don't care, they charge at him, possibly hoping to nab the basket or even something off his clothes - Zhongli is dressed nicely for this date, after all.

Sighing, the god gingerly cradles the basket and delivers a swift kick square in the first fellow's crotch, sending him flying. He strikes his shoe against the ground, sending a crackling wave of spiky cor lapis racing along the earth and knocking another three of the men back.

Zhongli is then locked in an eccentric dance as he uses his legs to deflect the others' weapons, willing his composition to become stone. A flurry of crescent kicks, jumping roundhouse kicks, tornado kicks, and Geo summons later, the god calmly makes his way to the top of the hill, the miscreants all groaning and stuffed away in the bushes so as not to ruin the scenery. Most importantly, the basket is unharmed!

There's tremors while Zhongli sets the picnic spread out. Zhongli recognises this as the lingering anger of a god he had sealed beneath the hill centuries ago; glowering, Zhongli commands, "Not now."

The tremors stop. He finishes setting the picnic up happily. When you arrive, you marvel at the glimmering cor lapis and stardust engulfing the area.

Smiling, Zhongli lets the date start in full swing, pouring you some lemonade and watching you fondly as you close your eyes in bliss at the taste of the fluffy strawberry pastries he'd packed. This is perfect.

"Wow, look at that my love! It's raining all around us, except for this hill! It's a miracle!"

"A miracle indeed, my darling."

[husky-studies]

Dr ratio with a child reader that is like ena or shiho? (Platonic pls! Angst and fluff is fine)

Concept: Dr Ratio with a Ena!Child reader

Warning(s): relationship between the character and the reader is STRICTLY platonic, angst at the start and bit of happy ending

Notes: YESSS ANON!! I took the inspiration from the Ena focus event, this seems a bit rushed but hope you enjoy it! 😭😭

He has been observing for so long. Observing you, doing a painting for your assignment. You look frustrated to say at least, by your latest assignment given by your teacher. The sketch looks roughed up with smudges of graphite are littered here and there. Your paint sits to your right, the tubes of paint sealed tight in their respective colors and you haven't opened any of them. You sat on your chair still unsatisfied by your sketch.

Just went you wanted to erase the whole sketch, a hand touched your shoulder. Looking back, you forgot Dr Ratio was here with you. "Why are you erasing it? Your concept and sketch is good enough." He asked while looking at your rough sketch. "I think...the sketch is not good enough, thats why I'm erasing it." You replied, your grip on the eraser tightens.

"My teacher thinks its not good enough..." You muttered lowly. "Your teacher..? What did he say about it?" Ratio asked, curious on what your teacher has to say about it. "I need to add texture to this painting, I need to correct my composition, lighting and the list goes on." You replied, the eraser long forgotten in your grip. Dr Ratio's grip tightens on your shoulders, its firm enough to tell you that he's reassuring you. "You'll do just fine, don't let your teacher ruin it for you." He said as he walked away, assuming that he wanted to leave you alone so you can focus on finishing the painting before the due date.

——————————————————————

He was waiting for you at your usual spot to see your results but, you haven't showed up. Classes shouldve finished hours ago. Actually, you shouldve gotten your grades a few days ago, but you haven't showed up afterwards. 'Did something happened to you?' He thought, a bit concerned but he trusts you to be able to handle yourself.

Finally, he saw you walking in. You looked...sad and you're not holding your usual things with you as well. "[your name], how did it go?" He asked while offering you to sit at your usual seat as you do your art assignments. You let out a sigh, "Everything's wrong, the teacher said theres no feelings in it, the lighting is too dark and what not." you said as you sat down putting your bag aside as you stared at the blank canvas, your back facing the doctor himself.

Before he could open his mouth, you asked him "Doctor...is it really worth continuing this path im walking down? What if art is not meant for me?" He listened to your questions, thinking the right answers to your questions before letting out a small exhale. "Only you can decide that [your name], you have chosen this path and its what you're passionate about. Keep walking down the path, don't run away even if it hurts." This is the only thing he could say for now, not really sure if you're going to take his words wrongly.

"You'll have to face the criticism even if you won't like it. Life is just like that." He added as he looked at you. You looked like you were about to cry but at the same time your eyes held a determined look. A look that wants to keep pushing forward, no matter how many criticism were fired their way. "...thanks doctor, I really needed that. I'll keep pushing..!" You said, smiling at him through the tears brimming at the edges of your eyes. 'His words are sharp...exactly how my teacher sounded, but no matter. I won't give up so easily now' You thought to yourself as you felt a hand patting the top of your head. The famous Dr Ratio was giving you a headpat huh? "Don't go back on your own words now." Ratio reminded. "I wont."

Mention(s): -

[emelinepommery]

A cover I made for a christmas gift ! The colors are bad because tumblr ruined the quality a bit. I really enjoyed the process, finding the right composition took me the longest time while doing the final cover took me less than a week. I'm starting to become more and more efficient in doing bookcovers ! I also made the typography for the title ! I hope you're all having great holidays !

I change the presentation and add a mock up !

[simminginstars]

Updated: How I edit my sims 4 screenshots (night-time edition)

A more detailed editing tut so you can understand my process as it may help you, i edited this relatively quickly and usually spend about 1-2hrs editing something...so let's goo.....

Before taking screenshots:

Help yourself as much as you can in-game, I always make sure there is some sort of light source in my pictures or something interesting that I can add to enhance something already there

Understand good/bad composition and add variety by using different angles

I take LOTS of photos just to end up with 1 or 2 good ones

I'll just be using photoshop for this, but i also like to use the procreate app as i'm more confident w it.

step1: I check if there are any major glitches or hard areas e.g, fingers elbows etc.. that have sharp points and pull them in liquify so they are smooth. Then use curves to change the contrast.

step2: *duplicates image* using the dodge and burn tools (keyboard shortcut: o ) i'll add emphasis to highlights and shadows (be careful with these as the dodge tool can ruin the image if used in excess) *merges image* (i duplicate and merge as i go, utilise using lots of layers so you can go back if you mess up/ want to change the opacity of an effect.)

step3: making light sources POP. *new layer* change blending mode to overlay or soft light and choose a colour you like.

step4: *new layer* draw hair strands. i just use a basic round brush in photoshop and change the hardness or i'll use a sharp caligraphy type brush depending on my sims hair type. (i try not to overdo it as i like maxis hair and don't want it to look too realistic)

step5: i would then add a new layer and set the blending mode to multiply to add more shadows, but i don't feel like i need to at this point.

step6: *duplicates image* go to filter > camera raw filter, i change the "light" and "curve" panels, i like green tints in my screenshots especially the night ones. (this is where all the magic happens really so just adjust all the channels to your liking, lightroom is also really good to use)

step7: *create new layer* blending mode: screen or linear dodge (add) / makeup and finishing touches! - for this look i'll get stars and glitter pngs off google or unsplash same for the smoke, though if i'm using procreate they have free brushes for that :')

step8: add light leaks as they add some fun dynamic lighting and textures to your screenshots. (i also flip my image horizantally [image > image rotation > flip canvas horizontally] whilst editing as it's like a "fresh pair of eyes" when you've been editing for a while so you can see what looks off)

final step: merge all the layers (though i do merge along the way once i'm happy with something) go to filter > sharpen > smart sharpen. I leave it as the default setting.

extra step if u want: for party pics i might add chromic abberation here is a 60 second tutorial on youtube it makes the pic look cool and trippy.

And you're done!! congrats on surviving. if you have any questions please send them in my ask box so others can see and get help too.

[untoldsoup]

Another way AI has ruined the art scene (besides the ethics, theft, environmental damage ect) is how it's basically become poison to real artist's minds.

You're drawing a hand and the angle means you won't see all the fingers? Well better draw them anyway and fuck the composition because you don't want to be accused of ai.

Artists with ocd are now counting and recounting features they have drawn a zillion times before out of paranoia.

Artists who used to be more abstract with backgrounds, or a little messy to save time have to second guess if their time saving techniques will get misinterpreted as AI.

Artists who are shy are forced to record their process and prove they are human just for people to know how many hours and hours went into their craft.

Art has become a minefield of fear and doubt now for so many. New artist are terrified that the mistakes that are natural with learning will get them accused of ai.

Ai has destroyed an entire community and its self esteem. Late stage capitalism's hunger for profits and hatred of human creativity has literally created a world where people are afraid to draw.

The sheer volume of doubt and anxiety in the art world it has created is heartbreaking. This Pandora's box of human suffering should have never been opened.

[mehiwilldoitlater]

"Ah, there you are! I thought I would never find you!"

The mech stared at you for a brief moment, then scufted a little and kept up with his painting session.

"Did not Ratchet tell you to stop coming into my quarter?"

"Nope! He told me specifically to come every now and then to remind you about your lack of social activity!"

"He's the one who's talking here..."

Despite his attempt to get rid of your presence, Sunstreaker never actually succeeded in it. In some way, he started to think that you enjoyed pestering him—maybe a small revenge from the doctor.

He kept ignoring your presence until he understood where you were putting your organic hands.

"Please stop touching my painting."

"I'm not going to ruin them. You're good at it, you know! Like really good!"

"Pff, like a human, you could even get what I do with that."

"Wanna bet?"

He met his annoyed glare with your challenger one. He didn't need to bet; he knew that a sophisticated mind like his was superior to a simple one like yours! He didn't even want to partake in that silly thing; maybe ignoring you would finally do the trick. He kept it up even after you started to analyze one of the bunches—a composition of lines of different colors—and put it into a strange wave.

"Okay, this one is...chaos, I get it."

"Woooow, Sherlock, nice guess..."

"But I see some order in it. With the color. If it were made with a bunch of colors, I would have stopped at chaos, but I can see that there's a pattern here. You used different shades of red, right? They don't follow some logic themselves, so they can be mistakenly confused with the same shade, but the white and black help to see the differences."

He stopped drawing but refused to watch you, only opting to try to process your rumbling.

"The black line and the white ones don't follow a real one; they look like doodles, but the red ones follow a wave, like an actual movement. There's this blueish tones here and there; they look like...OOOH OHOHOH, it's your brother!"

He finally looked at you, shocked. 

"It-it's...no, it's-"

"Of course it is! Sideswipe behavior always looks quite caustic on its own, but you sense the logic in it! You found an order! And on the red line are his own unique traits? His personality??? Awww, that's so sweet! You must care so much for him!"

He couldn't process the right words; he didn't have any! Which was a surprise; he always had bad remarks, something pitty to say, and now there you were, waltzing around and just leaving him out of words.

You finally decided to leave the painting alone, facing the machine, now in pure confusion.

"Well, as always, I must remind you about Rtachet, Yada Yada Yada, and OH, tomorrow me and Bluestreak are going out; if you want, just call! You know where he sleeps, all right?"

And so you left, like nothing happened. You left him alone in his own thoughts, and he grabbed his brush so harshly that he must have left the sign. He started to torture the canvas on which he was currently working.

"Stupid human, stupid artistic sensibility, stupid psychoanalysis session!"

He stopped passing the brush and started to use it as a knife.

"You can't just come here and be this nice! I don't want you to be nice with me; I don't want you around at all."

He changed colors several times in a row.

"Who needs a human that is this nice and kind?! Who needs a stupid, fleshy person who just cares so much for me?! I don't need you to care for me! They even act like I like them!"

He kept pressing the brush.

"Like they can just come and hang around with everyone! If they like everyone, then why bother with me?! I can't stand it! I-...."

Despite the mess of colors, it was nice. A good view. They looked like flowers—so many colorful flowers. The colors were bright—not too hard, but bright. He held the canvas, realizing that he painted it thinking of you.

And in the center, a bright yellow one stood among the others, screaming, Pick me.

"FRAG IT!"

He threw away the canvas, trying to convince himself that that thing was just his imagination and that there was nothing but a bunch of colors and curves.

And, while conversing with himself, he glanced at the small communication device, thinking about your small trip with Bluestreak tomorrow.

//////////////

@hey-name-arya-name-ar @malewife-overlord @ladyofnegativity

i did it

[weird-an]

"You," House says, chewing on Wilson's sandwich and staring at Wilson like he's about to eat him next. "You are jealous of my patient."

"Jealous?" Wilson raises a brow. Where does this come from? It's an intriguing case, House has even met the patient. Sure, the guy is dying snd House can't figure out why, so House sat in his room - for an entire hour. "You're being ridiculous."

"Don't worry, I'm not Cameron, I won't marry a dying man," House continues. "Although he offered me a blowjob."

That bastard obviously waited until Wilson drank from his smoothie.

"What?" Wilson wheezes, choking on strawberries and bananas.

"See?" House nods like he's got all the proof he needed and takes Wilson's smoothie, emptying the bottle in one big gulp. "Of course he didn't say anything like that, he's intubated."

This is way more relieving than it should be. Wilson hates himself a little more. What kind of doctor is happy about that?

Luckily Wilson is still coughing and has to concentrate on breathing - so he chooses living, not answering.

"But I figured out what's wrong with him, so we might go on a date." Apparently House is on a mission to ruin Wilson's day.

"You aren't gay," he says weakly, ears burning a little. He would know that, wouldn’t he? But then again it's House. Who really knows?

House rolls his eyes. "You're so pedantic."

"You never liked guys," Wilson states the obvious.

House has the audacity to grin at him. "Wrong."

What? Wilson only manages a composition of indignant noises.

House is a bastard who doesn't take pity at his burbling. "I like guys the way you like guys, Jimmy."

Wilson glares at House - the people cafeteria must probably think he's having a hypertensive crisis.

"I've found the magazine," House announces proudly, actually waving a magazine which looks suspiciously like Butt at Wilson's face. It's probably one Wilson forgot to hide when House has been coming over (hiding things from House is as thrilling as it is annoying sometimes - and Wilson is awfully good at it).

"Not so loud," Wilson shushes him. He's a little scared. People may be listening.

"What?" House feigns mock surprise. "You aren't out at work?"

"Now I probably am, thanks to you," Wilson grumbles. He can already hear Cuddy calling him into her office, telling him all about acceptance.

House just shrugs - of course he doesn't care what other people think.

"So… you like guys?" Wilson whispers.

"I love dick," House almost yells. "And tits, too." Great, now people are staring. Wilson wants to hide under the table - or get a new job in another state. Only that House would find him there, too.

Wilson sighs. "You're not really wanting to do your patient, do you?"

"If you want to bang, you can just ask," House says so casually like he's talking about the weather -only that House never talks about the weather or mundane shit like that. "Pretty sure I am your type."

He is. In a way that nobody else can be. Not that Wilson ever intended for House to figure that out.

"Asshole with a cane?" Wilson grins.

"That's not a no," House tells him.

"It's not," Wilson agrees. House got a really pretty smile, he thinks.

[taylor-titmouse]

Meatheads, by R/L Monroe

it's another month gone by, which means another cover for another @petitemortality R/L Monroe book! this one goes hard and sweaty and meaty, and the worldbuilding is both really funny and really fascinating in the little glimpse of it we get. and also there's three huge fuckin dudes going to town on each other. check it out, and follow along on the process for designing the cover below!

FYF 3: Meatheads $3

Trapped by a lethal boiling sun, in the neon ruins of a fallen supercity, three tank-grown ultrasoldiers have nothing to kill but time and no enemy but their own overheated flesh. Daily hormone shots gave them hard bodies, but without a seedsucker to offer them relief, they soon have something even harder to contend with. It's not gay if you come out on top...right? Almost 7k words(!), EPUB and PDF format. Content: -M/M/M -straight turned gay -testosterone dosing -cum harvesting/drinking -dominance struggle -sexual hazing -rough sex

THUMBNAILS

i lost track of the initial notes for these, but the first two were really just me spinning my wheels. my instinct was something with greek wrestling, stylized like pottery. we usually do the covers early in the month, so i hadn't read the finished book yet and didn't have a clear sense of the aesthetic yet. i did know there were three guys, which made composition tough. fighting is not, typically, a three-man's game. lee suggested looking at WWE and rugby

which led me to looking at turkish oil wrestling, because truly, what is greasier than that. originally there was a reference image of turkish oil wrestling here, but tumblr hated it so much that they flagged the post and denied appeal. those men were wearing pants. this post is free to read on patreon so you can see the greasy boys there.

moving on.

AH SHIT THAT'S TOO SCARY

so while we were talking about the color palette, lee brought up 80s splatterfest VHS cover design. we agreed on violent red and purple, but the topic of horror led me in a horror direction. gritty lines, harsh light and shadow, scary imagery with the single red eye, etc. and we agreed this look is Sick and Rules, but wasn't quite right for neon future climatepunk.

so i went back to the drawing board and totally got rid of the hatching. we're looking for neon, for black velvet, for graphic

definitely closer to the final product! though of course as soon as i saw it in discord i realized the purple on the middle guy's back and the third guy's leg were competing too much with the top guy's back and making it hard to know where to look. so: more variants

adding the paint strokes down was just something i wanted to try at the last minute, and it was definitely the right move! there were like five more variations of just That with the gradient map very very slightly adjusted, but honestly it's not worth posting all of those lol. the version we settled with was the best one!

and that's the process for this month's fuck yourself friday cover! this is both my favorite cover so far AND my favorite story. i love high concept worldbuilding that serves the fucking. if you're here and supporting my work, i bet you do too! so go read it! it's only $3 dude!!

[gravedigginbbydoll]

Hawkins University : The Munson Edition

AN: Welcome to Hawkins University! These chapters aren't mega long but I still hope you enjoy! This AU has a special place in my heart and I can't wait to flesh it out more!

→ cliches: friends to lovers, heavy use of nicknames instead of Y/N, we're all just struggling college kids, Music Tutor! Eddie, Resident Assistant! Reader, good girl x bad boy, instant connections, 'I don't trust most people but I trust you', 'are we friends or more?', and 'I can't believe you're such a slut that you have a special dtf drawer...'

→ warnings: mature topics, drinking and drug usage, strong language, bullying, mental health, eventual smut, minors dni

→ pairing: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

Masterlist Next>

Chapter 1

Eddie’s POV

Eddie sat at the library table, hunched over the dinky rental laptop, old headset over one ear, the other pushed back. His brows were scrunched and mouth in a pout, chewing on the end of his pencil as he tried to figure out what was wrong with the audio he’d been listening to for the past 30 minutes. Steve gently tapped his hand, pulling the pencil out of his mouth and mumbling to Eddie. 

“You’ll ruin your teeth.” 

Eddie grumbled, pouting still. He hated mixing and sound design. Sure, he wrote songs for Corroded Coffin but… that was a whole other ballgame. Production classes were all business and tech and he could barely wrap his brain around all the pieces that went into it. He was sure to get gray hairs by the end of the semester, and he was only a sophomore. 

He groaned, taking off the dated headphones and closing his laptop. He laid his head down on the table, hiding his face within his arms. 

“I’m dropping out. Becoming a hermit,” He grumbled, his voice muffled against his elbow. 

“You’re not dropping out. I can’t find another roommate in time,” Steve deadpanned, still focusing on his paperwork in front of him and his laptop. 

Eddie continued grumbling, none of it very coherent due to the lack of sleep and his face being pressed into the library table. 

“What’re we complaining about?,” Robin asked, throwing her backpack onto the floor by Eddie’s boots, settling down in the chair next to Steve. Eddie could tell by the strong smell radiating off of her that she had just finished her shift at the campus coffeeshop. She always smelled like roasted coffee beans and tea for hours after, almost like she bathed in grounds. “Because I could definitely use some complaining,” She joked, taking a sip on whatever free beverage she had brought from work.

“Eddie wants to drop out. The yoozh,” Steve replied, still focusing on his notes. He was taking an anatomy course for his sports medicine degree and trying to label a diagram on paper. Eddie could tell he was trying to complete all his easier work so that his energy could go into his Literature class. He was on the edge of flunking, and didn’t want to risk being benched from Basketball this season. 

Robin began rummaging through her bag, looking for her Language and Society textbook. She pulled out the book, placing it on the table with a light thud before rubbing Eddie’s back briefly. 

“Cheer up, Eds. At least you’re not failing,” She offered weakly. Robin was not the best at comforting others, but always tried. She pulled her hand away and opened her textbook, another light thud sounding against the table.

Eddie appreciated the effort but kept his head down while staying silent. Sure, he was passing…But at what cost? His professors constantly undermined his work and scolded him for not paying better attention. He didn’t fit in with most of the Music Production majors, who all seemed to only want to talk about how jazz was the sole genre worth listening to. His other classes like Composition and Performance had professors who gave him permanently pitying looks, as if they could sense his burnout and lack of enthusiasm. He didn’t even really practice on Sweetheart anymore, his beloved electric guitar. He still played shows with the band, and still enjoyed writing occasionally, but the spark was slowly fizzing out. 

Eddie tuned out the sounds of the library, thinking about his slow crumbling career, trying to stop the spiral. He focused on the idea of how his private tutoring lessons for guitar were going really well… Well, as good as they could go for working with awkward preteens. Or how he definitely felt like the girl who stared at him and recently flirted with him in his American Government course was going to try to hook up with him at the Sigma Nu party he was dealing at this weekend. Eddie could feel his breathing slow, and his eyes got heavier with each sigh, his blinking getting slower. He could feel himself drifting off, wanting to stop himself, but eventually gave in, drifting off into sleep. 

Eddie was slowly awakened by someone gently shaking his shoulder, frantic whispers in his ear, and the scent of vanilla and coconut softly coming over his senses. 

“Eddie…Eddie! You have class in 20 minutes!,” Nancy whispered frantically, her voice full of concern. 

Eddie sat up quickly, jolted by the fear of entering class late. He didn’t need to take Beginners Guitar, but it was an easy A that made his GPA happy, which was good for his scholarship. Plus, it was the one class that didn’t drive him to pull out his hair. He scrambled to grab his backpack and acoustic guitar case, hugging Nancy and waving as he spoke so quickly his words jumbled together. 

“Oh god, I gotta go, I’m late, also Nance, do you mind returning the laptop and headphones when you clock in, I owe you, bye guys!” 

Eddie raced out the doors of the library, glad he chose to wear his hair in a messy bun today because otherwise he’d be running towards the music building blind. He allowed his long legs to take him, the route to the building built into his muscle memory.  When he finally reached the building and bound up the stairs towards the spacious classroom, he was cursing himself for not getting there earlier. It was only about two weeks into the semester, but Eddie had a particular spot he liked to sit in, and knew someone would be quick to snatch it. 

Eddie entered through the door, quickly walking toward the semicircle of chairs, most people already in their seats and chatting, the lone spot left was next to an unfamiliar face. Eddie sighed, settling in the spot, unhappy with being so close to the front. He busied himself with taking out his acoustic guitar, Guthrie (named after Woody Guthrie, the anti-fascist folk singer who inspired Eddie’s sloppy written parody of his famous “This Machine Kills Fascists” on his guitar). Eddie ran his fingertips over the writing, letting his mind wander to the fond memory of its inception. 

Eddie, ever the nerd, had painted on “This Machine Slays Dragons” when he was just a gangly and pimple-faced middle schooler. The paint chipped and worn out, but added to the overall loving and worn look of the instrument. 

It felt like just yesterday when he had just been introduced to the wonderful world of Dungeons and Dragons by his American History teacher, Mr. Medina, who invited Eddie to a Tabletop Roleplaying Club after seeing how hard it was for the boy to fit in. Eddie had just moved in with Uncle Wayne, and was the current talk of the town. He still remembered the whisperings of his dad’s addictions and sentencing of armed manslaughter. The giggles over rumors of his mother being an out of town prostitute. (She wasn’t, she had actually taken care of Eddie up until he was seven. But then she got severely ill and Eddie had been sent to his dad.) DnD had become Eddie’s safe haven. He threw himself into fantasy and music, ignoring the whispers.

He had had the guitar given to him that Christmas by Wayne, who noted the boy's interest in music. Eddie’s eyes must’ve been threatening to bubble over with tears, because he remembered Wayne’s gruff voice and his strong pat on his shoulder. 

“Now don’t go making a big deal about it, boy. Found it in a yard sale. Figured it’d go to waste,” Wayne grumbled. Eddie had sniffled, knowing deep down it was a lie. Eddie had stared at the same guitar in the Pawn Shop window on the walk home from school for the past couple months. Eddie thanked Wayne, wiping away at misty eyes. 

A few weeks later, while reading The Hobbit and sitting on the couch, Eddie heard Wayne humming along to an old record, recognizing the song as ‘Do-Re-Mi’, a Guthrie hit. That’s when the idea struck him. Eddie sat up quickly, running off to his room, bewildering Wayne and minutes later running in with the sloppy writing on the guitar, the paint still glossy and wet. 

“Now, boy, what’d you-” Wayne began but cut himself off, noting the brunette's toothy grin and twinkling eyes. He let his eyes travel to the writing, and felt a smile tug at his lips. “Well I’ll be damned. Didn’t know I had my very own Young Guthrie living under my roof. It looks good, son,” Wayne said, ruffling Eddie’s short buzz cut. 

“A Guthrie fan, huh?,” chimed in a feminine sounding voice next to him. 

Eddie shook off the memory, turning over to look at the source. 

You were a new face to him, never having seen you in class before. He wondered if you had missed two weeks of classes on purpose, or why you’d be here, seeing as he didn’t recognize you from the fairly tight knit group of students in the music department. 

He opened his mouth to speak when the professor moved up to the front of the class. He turned away from you, towards the front. Guess he’d just ask you later. 

Good God, Eddie thought. I can’t believe my luck. The one day when I'm almost late to class, I sit next to the only person with an untuned guitar who’s tone deaf and doesn’t know the chords. 

Everything you strummed made Eddie wince. And sure, it was a Beginner's Guitar course. But Jesus Christ, Eddie was sure he had heard better tunes from a trailer park stray dog. 

You seemed very focused. Your eyebrows were furrowed, your tongue peeking out from between your lips as you struggled to keep up with the fingering on the fret. Eddie would’ve found it cute if his eardrums weren’t bleeding. 

By the end of the class, you seemed thoroughly frustrated and annoyed. You were packing away your guitar and flexing and unflexing your fingers, clearly unused to the feeling of holding your hand in the same position for so long. 

Eddie packed up slowly, thankful that his next class had been canceled so he had time to relax before his private lesson at the local music store with a little redhead preteen named Maddie. She was sweet, but also at times a bit impatient, so Eddie liked to have a bit of a break before dealing with her. 

He noticed you were over by the professor, your things packed up but left in the seat next to him. You were speaking in hushed tones, your back to Eddie and your hand movements telling him that clearly, you were unhappy. He turned away to pretend to be rummaging through his mess of a backpack when he noticed the professor point over to him and you turn your head to look. 

Damn it, Eddie thought. He knew that the professor knew he wasn’t actually a beginner and allowed him to stay in the course because he enjoyed Eddie’s willingness to assist those who were struggling in the class. But he didn’t exactly have the time or energy to fully teach someone unpaid. 

By the time Eddie had decided to book it out the door with Guthrie all tucked away, you were quickly walking after him. 

“Hey! Wait!,” You shouted, the noise echoing in the hallways of the building. 

He cringed, but stopped in his tracks, slowly turning around. 

“Look, I know I play like shit and my guitar is a very shitty rental, but I need to take this class in order to graduate early, because it’s my last non-major course, and all the other art electives are filled up. Professor Howard said you’re like the most talented student in the class and that his niece has you private tutor her at the music store, and I really really need an A in this class. So…Can you help me? Please?,” You breathlessly spilled out, huffing from having to chase after him. 

Eddie’s lips turned down in a frown as he felt his impending headache come on and annoyance grow. He stared at his worn out boots, glaring at the floor. He had no clue little 10 year old Maddie Howard was linked to the same family tree as his professor, but should’ve figured given their resemblance and shared last name. He looked up to meet your eyes, opening his mouth to reject you, but was stopped when he saw your expression. Your eyes were cloudy with tears, your brows furrowed in worry and your expression pleading. 

You were a pretty thing, and Eddie could see that now looking at you more closely. He bit his lip, weighing the idea in his head. He could help you and not be subjected to any more bleeding ears. Plus, he couldn’t stand the idea of those beautiful eyes overflowing with tears with him at fault. 

He sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“Alright. I’ll help you.”

Taglist: @josephquinnsfreckles

[yujeong]

idk if you still keep up with 4 min events after the series but the issue with the photos of fuaiz for the charity auction makes me so mad. the composition of his photos were by far my favourite (jes being a close second) and they do not deserve to be shelved forever.

he really embodied the theme of the photoshoot very well and we can see that he and the team worked really hard to bring tonkla's mindset to the photos. he's really talented and i hope the fans will allow him to have his own autonomy in future. sorry for rambling, i'm just so upset.

I debated over sharing the news on Tumblr, because I've been blocked by people for bringing negativity into the main tags in the past and I don't want to be negative on here, but this issue is too important not to mention, so thank you anon for giving me the chance. In case any of you didn't know, BOC hired Apo as the Creative Director for a 4 Minutes themed photoshoot in which all the actors got their pictures taken as the characters they played in the show. The themes were "sexy" and "cool", as Apo said himself - he asked the actors what their definition of those terms was, and collaborated with them in order to bring those vibes out and into the photos. All the photos will be part of an auction, both online and offline at the Fancon event they have on Saturday, and all the proceeds will be donated to the Institute of HIV Research and Innovation (IHRI). All hell broke loose when Fuaiz reacted to his photos in a short clip BOC shared. People went crazy on Twitter, tagging BOC cursing them for "grooming a child", tagging Apo to tell him "Fuaiz is an actor, not a pornstar", tagging Fuaiz himself for reasons I can't even fathom, and so on and so forth. This resulted in Fuaiz announcing on a live they did for the online auction yesterday that his photos won't be shared, that he consented, that it was his vision of Tonkla, that it was Tonkla in the photos and not himself and that he wanted to do this for charity, which was the point of the auction in the first place. You can hear Bible's translation of Fuaiz's words here. I am disgusted, and angry, and very very sad that so many people decided Fuaiz wasn't allowed to express his artistic vision, that he wasn't allowed to participate in this beautiful event, that his work was supposed to not even exist at all because.... something something pedophiles, something something protect your artist. Let me be very clear here: this is homophobic. Infantilizing a grown up who consented and who had his parents consent as well, because he's "only 18" to have pictures taken AS THE CHARACTER HE EMBODIED AND NOT HIMSELF, pictures which show a nipple and an aroused expression mind you, is homophobic. Calling gay sexual desire portrayed artistically in a photo porn is homophobic. Implying said photos ruin the actor's image and make him vulnerable to predators and pedophiles is homophobic. You're not protecting anyone with this behaviour. You're not morally correct for ruining an actor's hard work and denying him work opportunities. Neither Fuaiz nor Apo deserved this, and it's the second time BOC had to cave under pressure from entitled fans who have no idea about anything and all they do is hate, hate, hate. I'm appalled and very fucking mad. I genuinely hope Fuaiz is okay after this, and that he gets as many opportunities as he can in the future. He deserves every single one of them.

[kimyoonmiauthor]

HWA writer is doing a vote on Artificial Intelligence and a round up on what graphic designers actually do and why you shouldn't shoot your foot.

So writer news the HWA is voting about AI use, both in writing and covers. Most of my social media bubble is saying NO. 'cause obviously, it's stealing other people's work, but there is also this guy...

I get it, a lot of people don't understand the process that graphic designers have to go through. But it's harder than people think and some of the cost is BUYING LICENSED PICS TO USE IN YOUR COVER.

Unlike AI, graphic designers pay the photographers, etc OR have really expensive equipment to make high res images for book covers themselves. My cheap camera was 600 bucks in 2019. That does not include background, lights, etc. If you're complaining about the cost of custom covers from graphic artists, think about the cost to hire models, costume, and the camera equipment.

But it's more than Oh, snap pretty pictures or pay for it, there are other principles that go into art which include composition (which I covered many times), color and color theory knowledge (which AI can't always do well because there is also psychology per culture that one has to put in.)

There is also typography and knowledge of the market and psychology. You're paying for a lot more than Oh, just slapped pictures together. You're paying for a human who can create something unique that shows off the elements of your book in maybe ways you didn't think about.

Graphic artists are artists because we do things like arrange your websites for you to maximize psychological interaction. Graphic artists are not on the same par as AI.

So, no, this is a horrible take. I use traditional and computer media. But you can't unite if you think, OMG, you drew that in a computer v. you drew that on paper versus and think the first one is invalid. OMG, you wrote that in a computer. You wrote that on paper. The principles the human is applying are pretty similar.

Many graphic artists also draw. Many people use both media.

When Will up there can explain the positives and negatives of what a tangency is and how to color adjust a photo digitally on levels+curves, and how those things can affect the psychology of people interacting with their final product, then he can talk about OMG, how digital art is ruining covers.

Graphic Designers also know how to typeset your covers, who usually do it digitally, so don't eff with them by slamming the people that work with you. Because lemme tell you, the thing that makes your covers and the back of your books look excellent is that tight yet quite difficult art of typography. If that graphic designer really cared, they put that little extra work into eliminating the rivers on the blurb for you to make sure it was that extra bit more readable. They cared about the color of the type and the type face. And those people too are graphic designers. Psychologically, great graphic design is chef's kiss and when typography is done just so, the potential reader *feels* it through the design and the emotion your book is promising to give them.

So don't disparage graphic designers. Even for the fraction who cannot draw, when they are good they HELP with your marketing that much more.

General advice: Don't disparage platforms. Don't disparage your fellow true artists/creatives. Because it's likely you'll have the opportunity to work with them someday, and do you want to cut off the roads to making your book/product the best it can be? Uplift. Graphic designers are not the same as AI. Graphic designers pay other artists for licenses to their work.

Add to that the HWA is holding a vote about AI writing, etc. And yeah, we kinda need to spread this info around.

Dear HWA Members, An open comment period will be coming soon on the drafted Horror Writers Association Al Policy which has been diligently crafted since March. Members, please look for a Special iMailer in your inbox by the end of the month with instructions on where to send your feedback. The feedback period will be open for open for 25 days. The Board of Trustees values art and artists and looks forward to the comments from its membership. Sincerely, Maxwell Gold Executive Director, HWA

[bestgameostcrownduel]

Round 1, Side A: Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers (2019) vs Kingdom Hearts 3 (2019)

FFXIV | Kingdom Hearts

Campaigns under the cut!

Campaign for FFXIV:

oh my god where do I start. Final Fantasy XIV (FFXIV) is an MMORPG that's been going on 2013, or 2010 if you count the trainwreck that the current FFXIV replaced (the 2010 version's music was composed mainly by Uematsu, 2013 onwards is mostly Soken). Thus its OST is FUCKING HUGE and spans a whole lot of genres. If you like any kind of music at all you can probably find at least one track that speaks to you in this game. FFXIV has a category of incredibly difficult fights called Ultimate, comprised of multiple short phases that each have their own music. Because of the nature of how Ultimates are structured, they're the only fights in FFXIV where the music can actually be timed to the mechanics. If you're not afraid of story spoilers, look up any ultimate's BGM and you can see how cool this effect is. (I can't listen to Under the Weight without also hearing the sound of every mechanic and tankbuster.) (My personal favorite ultimate, music-wise, is The Epic of Alexander. Back when I was progging the fight I used to fall asleep listening to the BGM.) To The Edge is so so special to everyone who loves FFXIV. It's the theme of a boss in Shadowbringers; I can't give details without also giving major spoilers, but I will say that the story and this song deal with the themes of death and loss. If you look up the lyrics, which aren't too spoilery without context, you'll get what I mean. What makes this extra emotional is that FFXIV's main composer, Soken, was in the hospital fighting cancer when he composed this song. (To be clear: he kept working because it provided him with a desperately needed sense of normalcy, not because he needed to.) No one on the dev team knew aside from Yoshi P, FFXIV's producer + director as well as Soken's personal friend; the rest of the team found out the same time the fans did, months after the fact when Soken was in full remission, at the 2021 FFXIV Fan Festival (FanFest). To The Edge was already widely beloved prior to this because it's an incredible banger tied to an incredible story moment, but knowing what was going on behind the scenes during its composition, in addition to the story and song's own themes surrounding death, turns it into a piece that no one can listen to without getting wildly emotional about it. At the same FanFest, before Soken announced that he fought cancer and won, he performed this live: https://youtu.be/aBt4zT_PBmw?si=SgzTV9BvINfA0b-U Absolute king shit. With Hearts Aligned is also so so so special to me because it's the song that plays in the 'victory lap' second phase against the final boss that caps off a nine year long story arc. It features a leitmotif from The Maker's Ruin, a song from 2013, that represents the player and is often used when we overcome seemingly insurmountable odds. There are no words that can describe the sheer fucking emotion of fighting the final boss of a nine year long story arc while listening to the leitmotif that represents YOU, a leitmotif that you first heard however many weeks or months or years ago when you first started playing this game. The ultimate triumph, and the ultimate song of hope. Also if you like leitmotifs, FFXIV has /so many leitmotifs/. Have a spreadsheet of them: https://x.com/EENlX/status/1686043012353396736?s=20 Also also, Alex Moukala on youtube does more in-depth analysis of some of the best tracks in FFXIV! Great videos, I highly recommend checking them out.

I would put the entire game's soundtrack if I could but there's a LOT. The album I listed is for the "postgame" of Shadowbringers. Of particular note is the song "To The Edge" which was written while the composer, Masayoshi Soken, was battling with cancer.

Campaign for KH3:

yoko shimomura, the GODDESS, the LEGEND, her composing skills never fail to amaze! kh music is so so goodddddd

I’m not good with propagandizing but the OST for this series is so good. For KH3, I love so much of the soundtrack. The Disney worlds have some great tracks, but the endgame and dlc has almost nothing but bangers.

[valstarsandgalaxies]

’I can't tell him the truth. I can't tell him how i feel. It'd ruin everything and it wouldn't even matter at the end.’ He's getting married. He's getting married and it's not John, who will be standing opposite him. It hurts him just to think about it. It won't be John. And in his most desperate moment, he said: "I even thought you could be my best man." It wasn't a question, but it was. Basically what he was trying to say was 'Bucky, even if you're not the one I'm marrying, i need you there. I need you with me, so i could at least imagine it's you.' He's not sure, if that meaning is clear though. He feels sick. Sick from the cowardly decisions he made earlier. He loved John more than anything and still it wasn't enough for him to actually choose him. When that clicks in his head, he can't even look at himself. His body hurts, his heart hurts and he did it all to himself. But he'd rather have this pain and John as his best friend than not having John at all as if he confessed and John didn't feel the same way. It's weird, maybe he'll even find comfort in all of it.

"I'll be your best man." John said and hadn't really realised what that actually meant. It meant standing at the altar with Gale, but he won't be the one Gale's marrying. It meant that he'll have to watch Gale marry someone else and that John will only become secondary to him. It meant that whatever he thought they had before wasn't there and it's ending. He thinks back to the time when they lay together in John's bunk at the stalag, cause it was incredibly cold. They weren't the only ones, that's why it felt so safe somehow. It almost felt like a start of something more. At least that was what John thought. A few days later, Gale revealed to him this truth of him getting married and he realised that that situation was merely a composition to deal with the cold. Gale never joins him in his bunk again.

It was weird. Telling John while he was lying in his bunk. It almost felt like they were lying there together. Like John's arms were around Gale and Gale's arm around John. Like every part of their body is touching and things were different. But they weren't. John felt so far away and he felt himself backing up, going further from him. He was slowly going the other way and for the first time John wasn't chasing him. That was also new. John wasn't chasing him. Why? Why did he not run towards Gale like always? He supposes one gets tired of chasing after somebody who is only going further away from them. Your legs start to hurt after a while and you see no result. He understands that John gave up. He understands, but he wishes he didn't. Maybe someday that'd give him the courage. But he couldn't ask that from John.

John wants nothing more than to go back to the way things used to be with Gale. Them being close all the time, no one thinking anything suspicious about them. He wants to go back before all the terrible things have happened. He wishes more than anything that Gale would have come to London with him. He can't stop himself, but thinks how different things would have been. Maybe they wouldn't even be here, in the stalag. Maybe they'd still be in England, at Thorpe Abbotts. Or maybe they'd be dead. It's hard not to think about the time they could've had in London though. It'd only add to the amazing memories he had with Gale. It never happened though. But he still tries to cling to all he has. All the precious memories with Buck. His Buck. He's not sure Buck is his anymore though. And that thought hurts.