I Havent Drawn Him In A Bit

Isamu got caught in the rain--and after such a fun day of running across rooftops, too!

bonus:

he got sick lmao

[top] June 2018

[bottom] September 2019

boy seeing how much ive improved is crazy

anyways thank you to all who commented on my last post! Obviously this one won, unless i failed to check the notes earlier today dfksjnfdkjnsdkfj

SUPER old pics from when i went thrifting in tagaytay

i drew my boys

ok goodnight for real dont repost or steal

ALRIGHTY TIGHTY let’s break this puppy down because for the first time i actually got excited watching a movie trailer for the Transformers ™ Franchise ™

Now, 👏 I feel like this is going to be the Spiderman: Homecoming of the Transformers franchise, and before u say anything shut up because I love Homecoming and it’s my favorite thing ever I would die for Homecoming Spidey and I would die for this Bumblebee.

Why? Whym’st?? U may ask??

That’s what we’re getting into! Open your textbooks to page none and read as I read;

First things first this movie looks REALLY good. Like. Looks as in See with your Sight Spheres (eyes). It Pleases your Eyes.

The whole trailer had this warm, kind of nostalgic, wondrous vibe to it and I just loved it so much, because the way the scenes were shot felt really close and personal. It felt like I could really connect with these characters and get involved; I felt really immersed the whole time watching this and that’s special compared to the previous movies.

The previous movies had BIG, WIDE, CINEMATIC SHOTS and HUGE EXPLOSIONS™ and. Yeah. Those are cool I guess but did you ever feel immersed? Like, you actually felt connected to the movie and the characters? I don’t know about you, but I certainly didn’t. The wide, cinematic shots made me feel small, and the constant battles made me feel stressed. These movies stressed me out.

This movie, I feel like, is that one homeboy that is waiting for you outside the party with his car and some hot cocoa, ready to listen to you vent about your boyfriend you caught cheating on you with your dog or whatever.

Second; the character designs. 

oo boy lemme ju s t like

lie down

because,,,listen //leans forward, lips touching mic uncomfortably/ the character designs are so good. And for the first time in bayverse history i can tell the autobots and decepticons apart ha👏lle👏fuck👏ing👏lu👏jah👏

  The characters really pop and it’s such a HUGE step up from the previous movies, because their colors are really saturated and it breaks thru that classic blue-ish-orange-ish filter that movies have.

I very much deeply appreciate Starscream doesn’t look like an oversized nacho chip covered in tin foil, and that his design is similar to his g1 design (as well as bumblebee’s but we knew that).  His signature bright red and blue paint are a sight for sore eyes.

 I don’t think it’s a secret that fight scenes in the previous movies were akin to watching razors and soda cans go at it in a vacuum chamber.

Bumblebee has more round edges and his paint is bright but also faded and dull, as opposed to the iconic racing stripes on bright mustard and sharp muscle car edges. He gives off this warm, friendly vibe-- like you can’t be scared of him. He’s like a teddy bear, which is popular with small children so he’s like the kid appeal character ™ without the smartassery and bad jokes.

      See, this really helps because now you have colors to associate with good and bad! So far. At least. I dunno I’m only going off what I see here in the trailer.

But yeah! Yellow=Bumblebee=Good, and Red=Starscream=Bad. Kinda like in Homecoming, where the villain’s main color was Green, and Spidey was Red. As u can see color-coding characters is my kink dont @ me

Third 👏and 👏most 👏 importantly 👏👏👏👏👏👏; we’re getting a female lead that isn’t a useless romantic interest to a whiny uninteresting male lead. 

listen scoob you have no idea how much of a fucking relief this is to me I am SICK. and TIRED. of sitting through ROMANTIC INTEREST after ROMANTIC INTEREST AS THEY COME AND GO LIKE THE CASTING WERE PLAYING A GAME OF HOT POTATO, OKAY.

LIKE

THE FEMALE LEADS WERE TREATED LIKE CARS MORE THAN THE ACTUAL CARS; THIS ONE ISNT GOOD ANYMORE REPLACE IT!!! HELLO YES WOULD U BE INTERESTED IN THE LATEST MODEL IT’S BRITISH!!! NEW!! BRAND NEW!!

I AM SO READY. IM SO FUCKING READY FOR THIS LADY ALRIGHT

COME TO ME MY NEW WIFE

FOURTH: STORYLINE 

As stated before, this movie so far gives a nostalgic, warm feel to it. That being said, it feels more scaled down in terms of storyline as well. We’re focusing on Bumblebee and his new friends, and compared to the previous movies this is kinda like a cozy cabin away from the bustling, big city. This is the chill filler episode of a tiring series.

Much like Spiderman Homecoming! Again, this comparison isn’t bad, because both movies hold a very special place in my heart with their respective franchises.

Both are a breath of fresh air and a break from the main movie storylines, and a much needed one too. 

last but not least. definitely not least

the trailer music 

🙏//inhales/

🙏//exhales/

👏

listen this bitch got me #feelin things okay. I felt like I discovered a moss-covered treasure chest in the middle of a field while fireflies floated around my head and blended in with the stars in the night sky above.

It invoked a sense of wonder and curiousity, and when it swelled near the end it actually had me feeling hyped. I really hope the rest of the soundtrack is like this.

TLDR; I’m very much excited for this movie. For the first time, I’m getting a feeling from a Transformers movie trailer that isn’t despair and overwhelming emptiness. This trailer makes me feel safe and nice, and I also feel like a nostalgic 30 year old man when I’m a 16 year old girl. However, not gonna give Travis Knight my shoutout until After I see the movie. 

anyways thank u for coming to my ted talk™ goodnight folks mic drop

Hyped!

when i was young, i was taught to be strong

I believe that I was born a romantic. I believe that we all are–we are born with the ability to see the shapes in every cloud, the sword in every stick, the magical creature in every pet. I believe we are born with the ability to see a magical forest in every garden, and royalty and nobility in every friend that we make. We are born with the ability to see magic, and we are born with a love of love.

I believe that I lost that romanticism when I was young.

I believe I lost it when my mother refused to hold my hand. She had been angry at me, and she yanked her hand away from mine whenever I reached for it. I was six.

I believe I lost it when my father mocked my brother for crying when we left the Philippines after a trip to see our family. He was seven. I believe I lost it when my father, in the same breath, called me the man of the family because I refused to cry. He valued masculinity, and as a child all I wanted his approval, because he never gave it to me. I was ten. I remember it vividly as one of the few moments I felt seen.

I believe I lost it when my mother explained to me, day after day after day, how stupid she found women who valued love above all else. How kindness was an act of submission, how having feelings in and of itself was weak. That may not have been what she said–but it was what I internalised.

My brother cried every time he heard our parents arguing, which was almost every night. I would tell him to stop acting like a child. I would read through the screaming and block out my brother’s sobs, rolling my eyes dismissively every time I heard him sniffle. I believe he lost his romanticism then. He doesn’t cry anymore. We’re close–but he’s no longer as kind as he was when we were young.

We lost our romanticism when our parents decided the best way to discipline us would be to attack our character–to call us stupid, lazy, worthless. Sponges, useless, failures. And if we cried, we were weak.

So we learned to be strong. I learned to be strong. I learned to be mean and to scoff at magic, at softness, at love–all the things I adored and wanted so badly. I learned to never cry, not even privately, that empathy was wrong, and that I was worthless unless I followed these tenets.

My parents are very different people now. Before I left home, my father told me he loved me, and I couldn’t say it back. Three words I’d longed to hear since childhood, and I didn’t believe it was real. It didn’t feel real. It felt like him trying to make excuses as to why I should stay–stay because it’ll be hard on your own, stay because you’ll have a hard time living with your grandparents, stay because I love you. But I left. I didn’t cry when I left home. I didn’t cry when my sister said goodbye. I didn’t cry when my brother gave me his fidget toy unprompted as a goodbye gift. I didn’t cry when my mother finally left me alone, after staying with me for two weeks.

I wish I had. If this is what strength is, then I am tired of being strong. I want to be weak–I want to romanticise things again. I want to cry and I want to be able to admit it without feeling shame. I want to love and laugh and be kind. I want, so dearly, to be soft.

I will begin by admitting that as I type this my tears stain the keyboard. I will begin by admitting that I am afraid of posting this, of my friends seeing me differently and of people seeing me as naive. I am afraid of people seeing just how weak I actually am, but I refuse to let myself be scared any longer.

I am not actually touch averse, as I have told many of my friends. I just don’t know how to handle affection. I’m scared that they’ll actually be able to feel how much I want to be held. I’m scared they will pull away because of it.

I am one of those lovestruck people my mother loved to complain about. I want to fall in love–I want to fall hard and deeply. I want to be the devoted partner. I want to feel as though there is at least one person who is safe. I want the fairy tale wedding and the whirlwind romance. I want cheesy pet names and dancing in the kitchen at 3 am. I want to hold hands and buy them flowers and argue over whose turn it is to pick the movie. I want to love someone, and be loved back.

I want to believe in magic again. I want to go back to seeing Excalibur in every broken branch. I want to go back to believing in fairies and mermaids and that I could see them hiding in the trees and the crests of each wave.

I want to feel beautiful, and I can only feel beautiful if I allow myself to be kind, not only to others but to myself. There is no shame in empathy, in compassion, in kindness–perhaps Cinderella was onto something after all. I believe there is virtue in throwing your love into the world, even when it chews you up and spits you back out. There is virtue in refusing to participate in a circle of hate. There is virtue in proclaiming that it ends with you. There is strength in being soft, real strength, and that is the strength I now wish to embody.

I am trying to recover my romanticism. I still have to fight the part of me that wants to be hard, scary, and respected–but I have to believe I live in a world where softness can garner respect instead of scorn, because I no longer wish to exist in a world where softness does not exist.

Kindness is not an act of submission. Softness is not a loss.

For me, softness is my victory.

REUPLOAD BECAUSE I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE POST: Some painting practices ft 2 OCs !!

bunny doodle

Sketches; experimenting with houses n stuff because im Bad at Drawing That