Piku and October are two of my comfort movies.
Piku has this cosy homely feeling with so real characters. And I love love when big stars just act. Like Deepika was ethereal as Piku and Amitabh is well the quintessential father now. But Irfan, man, he really has those beautiful eyes. I love this genre of his movies. Could watch him just be relatable and attainable.
And October. Love the music. The flowers. And the way the story just weaves through loss and death. It's so poignant and yet so hopeful. Also maybe I love shiuli flowers a bit more and thus the extra love.
Strangely though, I don't think I've watched either of these movies more than twice, but any snippet and it's instantly calming.
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Been obsessing over the fact that my old oc, Artie, and Kinitopet are like so one in the same it's actually crazy.
Pink AI that's friendly on the surface, is actually really clingy and obsessive at times. Lonely and really just trying to fulfill a core objective as set by their creator or other influences, someone or something that they look up to as a godly figure maybe.
They both act as your friendly AI assistant, Artie is just for a specific program, while Kinito just gets to be his own thing.
Both want you to stay with them. Both will go out of their way to do things to make sure that happens.
they are so silly to me, and i love them
Also I found an old sketch from way back that somehow mimics the literal same plot beats to the ending portion of kinitopet and that threw me for a loop. Too bad it was only a concept sketch.
ohhh i love sentient silly ai so much... ohhh i love themmmmmm
something something sentience of ai is inherently a tragedy or something like that.
thank you for listening to me ramble. ahem.
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Note: this is not a Stancy story.
“Say it,” he bites out. He’s pushing too hard, being too mean, and he doesn’t fucking care. “Say you love me.”
Nancy’s eyes slide off to the side and she—she laughs, like he’s making a joke, but he can see in the way she’s got her arms wrapped around herself that they both know it’s not a joke.
“Steve, come on,” she says.
There’s a hot, buzzing feeling in him like a hurricane.
The words peel out of him: “But…we’re soulmates.”
He’s gripping his forearm, holding it out in front of him even though he’s wearing long sleeves. It doesn’t matter. They both know whose name is written there in careful, neat cursive, like a puzzle piece slotting next to the blockier name scrawled on Nancy’s wrist.
Nancy reaches out to push his arm down and out of the way, out of her eyeline, but she laces her fingers with his like she’s trying to calm him down. Like an apology.
“Steve,” she says. “Let’s just—can we focus on the important stuff, here?”
This is important, why don’t you think that nothing could be more important than this. Steve doesn’t say it because he’s trying to be better. He can be better for her, for Nancy, his soulmate. So he swallows it down and nods, gripping her slender fingers tight in his.
———
It takes him a while, but he figures it out. It’s fate. It’s gotta be. It’s all a big part of their story, the one they’re gonna tell at their wedding, about the time they broke up and made bad decisions and were really unhappy. When you find your soulmate early, sometimes you have some growing up to do, he’ll say. Or maybe Robin will say it. He can’t imagine a wedding where Robin’s not his best man. Best lady?
It’s so stupid, but there was a moment, back in ‘85, when he thought maybe Robin could be his true soulmate. Like maybe there was some giant cosmic error, and the smart, funny, beautiful girl he’d been overlooking all summer was really the one he was meant to end up with after all.
When she tells him about Tammy Thompson, it’s almost a relief. The universe isn’t wrong after all. He actually feels really sorry for Robin, because without a name on her arm, how’s she supposed to know who to pick? And with the gay thing—it’s gotta be tough even just knowing who’s an option. He doesn’t think he could handle that kind of uncertainty.
It’s a good thing he doesn’t have to. All he’s got to do is hang on until his story and Nancy’s story bend together again, and become their story. He thinks it’s kind of romantic, even: like he’s been given this time to learn to be a better boyfriend.
So he’s in good spirits, especially when Eddie Munson gives him a heavy look that shoots through his veins like lightning and says as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen. If even Eddie can see it after spending about five minutes around them, probably not even knowing about the soulmate thing, it must be true.
———
Afterwards, he finds himself unexpectedly alone with Nancy in the hospital, waiting their turn to see Max and Eddie. It’s not exactly the stuff of fairytales; even though they’ve had a chance to go home and shower and get some sleep, they both have Upside Down gunk caked into their fingernails and purpling shadows under their eyes. The fluorescent lights overhead are way too bright. The flimsy plastic chairs are digging uncomfortably into his thighs.
But he’s not gonna get a better opening than this quiet moment, with Nancy slumped against his arm, tired and lovely.
“Hey, are you—” He clears his throat and tries again. “Hey, Nancy. Did you…think about, uh, what I said? About…you know. The future?”
She goes tense.
“Yes, Steve. I did.”
Maybe something in her tone should be warning him off, but he’s on this road now, careening down the fast lane with no exits in sight.
“And? What did you think?”
Nancy takes a deep breath, then lets it out after a second in a heavy sigh. “Steve, I…I’m with Jonathan now. You know that.”
“Yeah, but that’s—I mean, you know it’s not the same.”
“No.” She slips a thumb under the cuff of her sweatshirt and rubs it over her wrist. It looks like something she doesn’t even know she’s doing. “It’s not the same, no. It’s…Steve, it’s better. This way is better.”
He ducks down, tries to meet her eye. “Nance, I know I was kind of a shitty boyfriend, but—things are different now, right?”
Finally, she turns to him. Her back straightens, shoulders square, like she’s bracing herself.
“Yes, things are different,” she says slowly. She reaches out to take his hand in both of hers, soothing. “This hasn’t changed for me, though. It’s not about—I just can’t be with you, Steve. Not like that. I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t say but we’re soulmates again like a child, but it lives in his throat, in the thump of his heart. Maybe she just needs more time.
Maybe not, though.
(ETA: continuation here!)
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one thing i noticed (form personal experience and by observing other artists) is that the longer you draw and create, the more boring it gets to simply replicate references, especially when it comes to characers' fashion choices.
with bnha, i keep mine pretty simple and basic because teens ARE very trend-loyal, but mainly im just lazy lol, but when i AM motivated, i love to think about characters' personal style, what could influence them, but also more trivial things such as budget into account, which is why i love to draw Deku in basic tees or clothes provided by his school (while bakugo gets to wear ed hardy and shoto wears arcteryx). i also love to limit the items like its just more realistic to me when someone as ordinary as deku wears the same 5 crewnecks all the time
which brings me to my actual point, namely that the more frequently you draw, the more you learn to do research andto combine your findings into sth new rather than staying faithful to one reference, and i think that's what makes good art so good, being able to draw inspiratioin from all kinds of niches and creating something that feels very authentic and suspends the spectator's disbelief. sometimes i see art and i know exactly which fashion editorial or which kpop idol was referenced, and I'm not insinuating these are bad things i do that too (less frequently now but i sure did!), my point is it's kind of nice to see how ALL artist start out with rather derivative art but eventually move on to create more authentic art that is less about drawing beautiful and perfect people and more about trying to individualize them and that ALSO means giving them weird clothes, scars, asymmetric eyes, a receding hairline etc. like drawing the same beautiful character 200 times gets so boring and it's just more fun to try and make them a bit more human
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