percy and annabeth's depature on mount saint helens affected them both very deeply, and i love for the show to capitalize on it. specifically, during percy's return to camp. i loved to see him fixate on annabeth rushing toward him amidst a crowd of campers. i'd love to see annabeth hug percy so hard, he stumbles backward. i'd love to see percy wraps his arms around her waist in tearful relief that she made it out alive. and i'd especially love to see the surrounding campers fall silent at their reunion because something definitely happened between those two.
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you wanted to leave the minute you stepped foot into this place.
"mama! come say hi to papa!" your 4 yearold daughter, saori pulls your hand, eagerly leading you to your ex husband and his new girlfriend. you daughter was the spitting image of her father, bright personality and white hair (given some dark streaks of hair from your side of your family, you'd theorize), but her sweetness was innoccent; unaware of the boundaries your relationship with satoru consisted of.
"hi,"
"hi."
she didn't know that you couldn't run up to him the way she would you. that the man you once dreamed of staying with forever was now side by side, hand around his waist, with his new girlfriend, nora. you bite the inside of your cheek, giving a small, apologetic smile feeling like you interrupted something even though you were outside the parameters of a park, all you wanted to do was turn your heel and close the door to this imaginary room; but your daughter kept you in place.
"daddy!" now it's satoru's turn to hold the limelight. without much thought, he lets go of nora's waist, kneeling down as your shared daughter wraps her arms around his neck, smothering his face with kisses as he laughs. the two of them share a fairly small and innocent conversation. you stand a few feet behind as nora stands across from you as you offer her another apologetic smile. your eyes fall to her wrists, resting at her front as a pretty dainty bracelet sits on her wrist. you wonder if satoru got it for her. it reminds you of that one fated night in monaco where the two of you shared love confessions, ice cream, and-
"daddy! can we feed the ducks?" a part of you felt like punching yourself, snapping back into reality as your ex-husband and daughter walk towards the pond, you and nora walk closely behind.
"you have a very beautiful daughter," she comments, making you hum, "she's definitely got satoru's spirits." and there it comes. "it makes me wonder what he'd be like with a son."
no amount of mental coaching could prepare you for this. not even the sound of your daughter's giggles from afar could ground you as you feel as if someone's slapped you with a glove. the bottom of your stomach churns, while your heart feels drained of oxygen, you turn away before looking back at her.
"oh, that's great. are... are the two of you thinking of a child?"
"nope." she says smiling proudly, "we're trying."
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finished the silmarillion
very very good book i loved it, honestly not as scary as people say 100% recommend
gonna read children of húrin now,, beleg is my favorite ever i hope he shows up a lot in 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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Obviously I wouldn't be working on a cross stitch project like the one I'm working on if I didn't love Arslan Senki but I cannot emphasize enough how much it is the story of all time for me
there is not a single version that I dislike, or that I think brings nothing to the experience of the story
but when you boil it down, the thing that has held me so captivated and brought me back to the story over and over and over is that Arslan himself is so gentle, and kind, and softhearted
and not only does the story not punish him for that like so many would, but those are the traits about him that his retainers love, and they would do anything to prevent him from losing that gentleness
the story shows over and over again that Arlsan is right and that he doesn't have to change who he is in order to learn to be a good king
and it just really gets me that in a story that can so often feature violence and deceit, that the core value is still that being kind is worth it
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forgive the random idea, but I was thinking about how much I love stories about people with power and in power, able to destroy lives and countries without a thought, being immeasurably strong and deadly... Being so soft and gentle towards their child.
Ingo being a god, a god who's been around for millenia. He's seen nations rise and fall, people come into and out of power. He's been revered and feared and forgotten and renamed. He's lived inthe heavens and on the earth. He's been mortal as an immortal, living a human life before dying and returning to godhood. He is old and tired and powerful. He has caused forest fires and destroyed mountains. He has provided bountiful harvests and life saving rains.
And then one day a child is left on the floor of his temple. A pair of wanderers stayed the night, and with nothing else to their names they left their infant behind. Ingo has no idea who they were, barely noticed that they had lingered, but the disturbance of the child left behind - a taste of innocence that lingers on his tongue, like the breeze over a wheat field and the cleanliness of a newborn - has him going to see what was left.
He's never had a child left as an offering, as payment. Sacrifices? Yes. But this one is still alive. She is so small, her eyes so big, and she looks at him without fear. He can't remember the last time he was looked at without fear, without blind devotion. He hesitates to touch her, not sure how to be gentle, and she reaches out first. She grabs his finger and begins to chew on it.
And Ingo is lost.
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