#its hard bc I worked on art with such intent for years so now like Art i am ...good... at and writing I used to consider myself good at but

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

sometimes you need to tell yourself “im a shit writer” and then Write Anyways. 

[ganondoodle]

Hello 👋

Swallowing my nerves at last to send you an ask! I was just wondering, what inspires your designs? Are their inspirations in stuff like movies or games? Or just things you come up with yourself?

i .. honestly its kinda hard to tell, sometimes i just randomly think of something, like some detail, or color combination and try to incorporate that into a design somehow; it can come from anywhere, like the color scheme of a pithaya/dragonfruit is something i have been wanting to make a design with for ages but havent come up with anything good in all those years ;O;

im a very easily fascinated by color, espeically in nature, like sometimes i just stop and stare at something like i froze in time bc i just woooooooooooooah color! i probably look like a weirdo doing that though

its really hard to pinpoint anything specifically, the most is probably .. other artists? i guess? which always makes me nervous bc my memory is shit in most areas of life and i worry myself to pieces whether i unintentionally "stole" an idea and just dont remember and think it was my own, it goes further that sometimes i see something that makes me want to draw a similar concept but dont bc i dont want to 'steal' even if that couldnt be further from my intention (have been accused of that before ..)

that said for my ocs specifically .. most are rather old and have just kinda evolved out of their awkward first iterations (shargons first iteration was a hauro-howl- copy that was really just some human covered in feathers .. another oc was once a hellboy copy but in green- havent drawn nor redeisgn them in ages lol), the biggest inspirations for them is a mix of animals, bonus if you dont see them often- im a big shark, whale and sea creatures in general nerd so i tend to take from them as a priority but always trying to be less directly animal and mostly just .. features that work together

Eadrya is one of the newer OCs- i started to write but then looked at my folders and oh they are from 2017 .., i even made a design timeline for them how much they, and my art, have changed back in 2020, so thats also way outdated now lol (they apparently started as a whale .. thing? its like a pokemon evolution lol)

this is them now (i like this sketch still, though shargons design is now also outdated lmao)

this ones from early 2023 so also outdated now but you get the point

for demons i try to be a bit more wild on shapes and colors while still adhering to the rules of how they work (humanoid form, demon form, animalistic, one element each and more or less made to fit that, 4 arms is very common, look to be bost scary and wild but also something that would make you stop in tracks and stare in awe and fear if you crossed paths)

often times designs just kinda .. happen, i have maybe the idea ok i wanna make something with a white and red pattern also moose or those big horned cows are cool and kinda scary so maybe sth akin to that (though this one is technically a redesign too- its also pretty much entirely different)

for non demons but still non human i go for a much more restrained design, mainly inspired directly by an animal and giving the color scheme a good spin, plus adding unconventional body shapes, like ki'ita is also a good example, her old idea was just orca anthro pirate and just by making the white green instead in her most recent redesign already adds that little spin to it

that can have its pitfalls though, as i often fall into the big arm small head small legs scheme over and over xD

alot of it is trial and error, deciding on the colors can take me hours bc im always searching for my little rule of having one contrast color that shows up in very few places to draw attention to it (like with Eadrya its those bright yellow eyes and thingy at their tail)

and that is all about myy own ocs, when its fandom stuff it works kinda similar though, either in the connections i wanna draw or just thinking it further- like how deities in destiny work also just kinda .. happened like an ever derailing train

like for demise i was at first really just im gonna give him horns bc horns are cool and he got those on the starting mural in the game- so how his hair work? well maybe it isnt hair actually and just unbound energy, im making him a deity too and fit hylias design to his so, yeah, then so how does it work, ok he gotta have a skeleton still, but what if his entire actual body is made up of pure magical energy with its core in the ribcage? with the core in the ribcage >:3c and the scales you see are just like cooled down lava as an armor bc his thing is fire and earth !! the normal blood? is a thin layer of skin imiated from mortals to keep the scales together and flexible so if he ACTUALLY gets hurt hed bleed magic that looks more like lava and any normal blood you see is just the armor- so why does he have a skeleton still instead of being just energy? maybe its gotta be bound to something OH and what if all of the deities started as mortals like a mirror to the trio later on and the gods cannot have direct influence to the worlds so they needed a right hand that is neither god nor mortal but both by killing a mortal by whatever their element will be (demise burned, hylia drowned etc) and their skeleton and spirit is kept but put into a body of magic- OH what if their spirit core is like almost piloting their bodies like a mech in a way bc if youd look close youd see that every strand of magic is actual a hand of their spirit so it makes it more weird and other bc hed be able to reach out with thousands of burning claws of all shapes and sizes like the beheaded forest god at the end of mononoke- SO if hed lose and arm or something all those strands would untangle and rearrange his bones back together-OH MY GOD the whole armor idea works so well for ghirahims dark armor so what if demise had two swords once and lost one and since has forged an armor similar to his own for ghirahim out fo fear of losing him t---

and that all is a process that happens over several weeks and months not rarely while i am drawing something mindlessly and suddendly *have a thought* and omg that makes so much sense-

so "what" inspires my designs? an ever derailing train of thought about making cool thick monsters that arent the evil thing to get rid of for once? cool color schemes? idk it just kinda happens??

[3terna15unshin3]

Connected

—

A/N: idea came from this ask, so thank u anon🥰🥰 it was so fun to think of how Matty and Este’s relationship was seen from the other side like what fans pick up on, and also establish how much they decide to share with fans vs keep to themselves. this concept is so interesting to me but i had a hard time writing from the pov of a fan hahaha so i just did it this way instead :))

This obvs is based heavily on TBSG lore so none of this makes sense if you haven’t read the main fic - go do that first!! and also check out the Instagram AUs, they add to the pizazz

—

“Love, look what I just saw on Twitter. This is hilarious.”

Este points her phone screen towards Matty as they sit in bed on a Sunday morning. He yawns, tired and still half asleep, then blinks his eyes a few times to read what she’s showing him. It’s a tweet from a fan that sits in her mentions from a couple of days ago when a clip from his Zane Lowe interview resurfaced.

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

thinking about the fact that matty mentioned meeting e.manansala when she worked at a bookstore in manc to zane and in this 2018 interview he said his fav spot in the city is Greenhouse Books …….. what are the chances this is the same bookstore bc that would be so😭😭😭💔💔💔💔 https://manchesterwire.co.uk/?s=matty+healy+give-yourself-a-try/arts&culture/article

jaymie SAW UNDO LIVE trmanb1ackk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Hold on you might be onto something

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to trmanb1ackk

right like okaayyy bookstore worker x customer to lovers notting hill pipeline????? 🤭 huge if true

She watches his eyes scan over the text and a fuzzy smile grow on his face. Matty loves talking about Este when he can—to bring some much deserved attention to her writing—and did so often, but does’t always mention many the details of their relationship. That was until strolling around the Northern Quarter with Zane brought a bit of it out of him.

Este is what brings him back to Manchester the most often, from visiting her family and Cate and Georgia to just needing a bit of a homey feeling from its familiar pubs and nostalgic shops. So, naturally, Matty talked about her in the interview done for the release of Being Funny—explaining how they’d met and how much the city means to them both.

“How they put two and two together is beyond me,” he says, scratching his head. “That Manchester Wire interview was five years ago now, you know. Did you ever read that?”

She chuckles. “Course I did! We had a few fans come in that summer with the sole intention of coming to a place you recommended, actually.”

“Why have you never told me that?” Matty asks, “You’re welcome for the business, by the way.”

“You never even told me about your little shout out, to be fair. I had to find out on my own,” Este teases. “Plus, we weren’t even a thing at that point—we’d met once! Quite creepy, in retrospect.”

“When you put it like that it’s honestly so cringe so please change the subject now.” Matty buries his head in the bunches of sheets that sit in her lap, embarrassed and frankly too sleepy to defend himself.

Este giggles, letting her hands settle into his curls. “Oh c’mon, you weren’t cringe. I’m just pulling your leg. It was sweet,” she reassures him.

“You’re just saying that because you feel bad,” he whines, then rubs his eyes to try and get the sleep out of them. “That’s so crazy that they dug that up, though. I’m not sure if many people know you’ve been around since then.”

“They probably looked at your life in 2019 and figured you were a rockstar with a new girl in every city but in reality you were calling me to get to sleep every night and doing origami in your free time because it reminded you of me.”

Matty’s jaw drops at her blunt comments. “I was about to get mad but I can’t even disagree.” He sits up, raking the hair out of his eyes. “Do people still use the word ‘simp’? Can that be applied to this situation? Was I a simp?”

She throws her head back, mouth wide, as she laughs at how ridiculous his question is.

“Please don’t say ‘simp’, love. You’re 34.” Este squeezes out between her giggles, “But no, people don’t use that word anymore. And yes it can be applied. And also yes, you were. And still are.”

“Proudly am,” he adds.

She leans into his side and he snakes his arm around her waist. They sit there, Matty only in a pair of pyjama pants and her an oversized tee, scrolling through the funny replies to the tweet and how big of a deal some fans were making it.

“You should respond. Tell Megs that she’s right.”

“Seriously?” Este asks, shocked that he’d want her to engage in something so meaningless and speculative.

But alas, he nods casually with a smile. “Yeah. They seem sweet, and just curious. And maybe being such a simp will give me some brownie points,” confirms Matty.

“God, enough of that word!”

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Can confirm🤝

liv livmymistake_

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and e.manansala

MEGS OH MY GOD

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and e.manansala

UMMMMMMMMMMM

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

omg hi😭😭😭 are being fr i can’t cope

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Greenhouse is the bookstore i worked at and is where matty and i met that year:)) and hi💌

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

i think i’m psychic for guessing that🤭🤭🤭🤭

—

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

k now i’m going crazy bc i had no clue him and este had been dating for that long💀 was genuinely convinced it had been 3 years max

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Literally they didn’t post each other until like 2020

sarah🧸 _102sar

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

I think she was at the 2018 Pryzm show too. Not sure but I was at the after party and remember seeing her there lol

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to _102sar

WHAT…….. this lore being uncovered omg

“Someone recognises you from the Brief Inquiry album release show?!” exclaims Matty in disbelief. “There’s no way.”

They still sit in bed as Este types away, having fun interacting with the small group. He leans his head on her shoulder and watches her as she does it.

“They’ve known you longer than I have, you know. They know their stuff,” she responds.

“Even I don’t remember you being at the Pryzm show.”

Este’s mouth falls open in shock, thoroughly offended. “You prick.”

“I’m joking!” Matty defends through fits of laughter. “C’mon E, I’m joking.”

She knows he is, but enjoys the theatrics of it all; shoving his head off her shoulder and scooting away from his touch in protest.

“That was a special night for me! The first time I saw you play and met the guys! Don’t make fun!” Este pouts, crossing her arms playfully.

“Fine. I take it back, I take it back,” Matty begs, dragging her back over to him and bringing her legs over top of his. He grabs her hand and places a kiss on her palm. “I remember meeting Cate, and introducing you to Louis. And Ross making fun of my gallbladder surgery, and leaving Cate on the dance floor to get drinks, and screaming at each other over the music at the bar. You telling me about the anniversary party. I very much remember!”

“Okay, okay. Enough gushing. I forgive you.”

Matty pecks her palm once more and shuffles her even closer. “Open Twitter back up. This is fun.”

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and _102sar

This is absolutely shocking bc how did his chronically online ass manage to hide a whole gf that long

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to ittsjudesk

fr!!! like do we think she was on the abiior tour with them bc i swear jordan absolutely fed us with so much bts content it would be impossible to miss?? someone dig

sarah🧸 _102sar

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1D and ittsjudesk

If u scroll back on her IG u can see Matty in her comments since then. And they’d repost each other on their stories and stuff🥲 So not that hidden if ur a stalker like me lmao

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to _102sar

thoroughly upset that i missed so much bf matty content </3

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and _102sar

Ignore me stalking u🤭🤭 i was indeed at that Pryzm show lol but we weren’t dating yet. And during abiior tour I saw a few UK shows but otherwise i was just in Manc working/being a bad groupie x

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Also matty is sitting beside me now and he is cool with me filling u in (it was his idea) and he says hi. and that u guys are cute

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

ohhh yes u are a working woman how could i forget!! bookstore worker/groupie same difference. thank u for responding😭 u are the coolest❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 (also hi matty😳)

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to e.manansala

Hi Matty sorry for calling u chronically online x

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to ittsjudesk

He forgives you (but it’s true imo)

liv livmymistake_

→ Replying to e.manansala

este wait i have to know …. since u are a former bookstore girlie turned writer are u the reason matty periodically spam posts a bunch of literature on his instagram stories???? did u convert him to bookstoregirlieism??

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to livmymistake_

I am obsessed with the idea that he was illiterate before meeting me so i’m gonna say yes. thank u for that

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to livmymistake_

Liv it’s me I stole the phone and don’t appreciate this sentiment tbh. You should know I’ve always been a wanker so all the literature spams are just me letting that out and este just enables me. hope that helps x Matty

[charbies]

I'm mashing together my review of totk and reactions to random encounters with the masterworks I've had lately into one stream of consciousness

Totk should have had true continuity, not a 6 year time skip that we never get to see, experience, and feel. It's not that hard to bridge 2 games with a 1-2 min cutscene, esp in a zelda game. Majora's mask starts with quick, but meaningful exposition that bridges OOT to MM! The intro to wind waker is a 6 minute long cutscene!! This series thrives with its detailed, intriguing intros, so what happened?? Before I even launched totk the night it came out, I booted up botw and replayed the final boss & ending because I was so stoked to see the transition in story/world and wanted to honor both games. Instead boom, we're walking in a cave w/ no context.

I was so disappointed that zelda wasn't a companion character to link in totk, it was disempowering to her character arc. Really thought this game would build off of botw's snippets of link & zelda working together in memories. The teasers and trailers for totk gave this perception that she would be there (which would also "break tradition" like devs wanted, ffs). When I was on the tutorial island I was fully convinced I'd be finding her and we'd reconvene like "ok what's next." When I realized 20 mins into the game that she was GONE gone, as in will not reappear likely until the end of the game damsel-in-distress-style, my verbatim thought "wait... really? Is this still going to be good?" Which was kinda sad, for a game I waited so many years for :/

I had major pet peeves with the copy/paste nature of the cutscenes with the old sages. The dialogue, bgs, pacing, literally all identical. They just hot swapped the character models for the sages and said that was good enough, wtf!!! I live for cutscenes in games, I have since I was like 5. This felt lazy, and seriously demotivated me from completing the dungeons bc I knew there was going to be nothing novel or intriguing to look forward to

The secret stones were gimmicky af. Sorry. Also stupid name, they couldn't even opt for "sacred?" Ik in other languages they have way cooler names, which would have helped. Link's fucking thanos glove of stones was a stupid gimmick, I cannot believe they didn't think to alter that concept to be more mythical, or creative, or just original. I would have killed for the stones to relate to the triforce in some way, or to do away with the stones and have this game connect to the triforce, since the whole direction of this story was going back to ancient myth & lore.

the Zonai lacked depth, and honestly just felt like a boring distraction even tho they were supposed to be a central focus of this game. I 1000% agree with other folks posts on the take that rauru was a flat, 2-dimensional colonizer. Sonia got sidelined. yikes. ew. no thanks.

^similarly, ganon really was given no character or depth imo. It's like they did a fantastic job making him visibly LOOK scary, so they didn't bother to give him motives beyond "I'm bad, I do what I want."

the cliche "back to normal" at the end irked me. Link could have come out with no arm, keeping the zonia arm, or at least scars w/ the zonai arm pattern and that would be meaningful. Zelda got factory reset from irreversible draconification in a method that for all intents and purposes, could have been done as soon as link got rewind ability. There was no investigation or inclusion of the other dragons, which seemed like a missed opportunity. Actively working on reversing her could have been a main quest in game!! Like 1. Complete all dungeons/get all stones, 2. you can now go round up the spirits of rauru & sonia and reverse zelda yippee, 3. you and zelda go beat the shit out of ganon together. The dragons fighting was beautiful, powerful imagery, but honestly I think too much potential was traded away just to execute that one fraction of the boss fight.

The masterworks book annoys me, which is sad bc I love concept art. I wanted to be a concept artist growing up, I can accept that you'll often see things that never make it into the final cut. I was enamored with early posts abt things like zelda's haircut, char designs, etc.

But more recently I'm seeing the anthology side of the book taking major liberties that it didn't even bother showing us directly or alluding to in the game, and I think that's such a cop-out. They are literally telling us instead of SHOWING us in the game they release a year ago, and spent SIX YEARS making. There was a festival celebrating the return of zelda/defeat of ganon?? Freaking show us that!!! Show us link & zelda acclimate to post-calamity life. Show us imperfect, non-linear healing and resilience. I would have loved a festival scene w/ link and zelda that conveys the nuance of celebration and recognition of their efforts, and the contrasting weight of what they went through. Show me zelda, exhausted after a festival struggling with guilt and indecision about whether to bring back the monarchy with hyrule's restoration. Throwing in a "oh btw imagine if we actually had done this" post-game makes me so irritated and feral. It's like the post-release canon is sidling up to fanon and saying, "hey look we can do that too! look at our fan art" idk if that makes sense, I don't think I'm explaining it well. But it just feels disingenuous.

I'm not a timeline purest, I don't need everything to interconnect, but I don't love how assertions in this book invalidate connections and lore of other games. Also really don't love how this game overwrites and sidelines the sheikah.

I know majority of my disappointment stems from my own, personal expectations of a game that, let's face it, was probably given many mandates and initiatives to appeal to *everyone* in broad, lackluster ways. I still love the world and characters of zelda, if anything, totk reaffirmed what I love and want to prioritize in my art that I didn't see present in this game. Fun fact I used the world of botw to learn a lot about drawing landscapes & composition. It actually inspires me a bit to try to learn to do comics, which has been a longtime goal I've been too busy and/or timid to pursue lol.

mmm anyway if u read this and any of this resonated DM me and lets froth at the mouth and commiserate lol

[basement-buddy]

did you ever run into art block when you first started posting art online? if so, do you have any advice for getting out of it? i recently decided to push through my anxiety and make an art account but found myself unable to draw anything because of how harsh of a critic i turned into thinking its not worth to post even trying to change my style bc my current one doesnt seem nice enough ( ;´ - `;) so im not able to motivate to draw at all these days ;;

I hit art block all of the time and I know this might not work for everyone, but honestly the only way I get through it is just by drawing whatever, even if it doesn’t meet my standards. Take this time to try some new things, learn some new stuff, draw whatever you want without pressure. Don’t worry about posting anything for a bit and just go head first into a bunch of new stuff. And don’t worry about it looking perfect or anything, or trying to meet your own standards or appease the critic inside you. I know that’s harder said than done, but if nothing is going to turn out how you want it right now, anyway, then why not just try something new?

This helps with your style dilemma, too, every few months I get upset about my artstyle, so I just do some studies or follow some anatomy tutorials, some nature drawing videos, get used to seeing something else on the paper in front of you, you know? If you go a while without seeing your style, when you finally get back to it, you can see less of the flaws. Or better yet, you’ve learned some new things that could help fix the things you don’t like about it.

Sometimes it also helps to look at my old art. The younger me would’ve done anything to draw how I am drawing now, and I’m sure it applies to you as well. You’re always improving no matter how much you’re not vibing with your work.

Most importantly, don’t put too much pressure on yourself! Creating something at all is wonderful. No matter how it turns out, you’ve done something most others just mourn not ever trying. I think it’s wonderful that you’ve created an art account, and I’m super happy that you want to share your art with the world, but don’t beat yourself up too hard. Don’t draw something with the intention to post, draw it for you! Back when I first started, I was nervous enough that I wouldn’t post things for upwards of half a year. I would sit on drawings because I was too shy to show them. If it helps, don’t post at all unless you absolutely want to. When you sit down to draw, don’t imagine the reactions, or other artists with other styles, imagine just what you want out of that particular drawing. I had to learn the hard way that posting should ALWAYS be an afterthought.

Sorry if this was rambly, I’m very very experienced with artblock and there’s just so many ways I’ve personally learned to deal with it that it’s hard to organize my thoughts properly. A lot of these are easier said than done, so just take it one step at a time, and remember that you’re doing awesome, that YOU’RE awesome, and no matter how you feel about it, your art is awesome, too! Take it at your own pace and be easy on yourself. ♥️

[hinamie]

hiii hope ur doing well hina :3 i loveeeee your art sososososo much !!! i was wondering how u started developing your own art style??

i used to draw a lot and im trying to get back into it, but all i can do is copy images fkjdg so any advice or even just hearing abt your own experience would be super helpful :D

again realllyyy love your art especially the way u capture emotions its so (chefs kiss)

HIIIII hello hiiii !!! and thank u !!!!!!!

ahhh th art style question :') i think i've told this story before but I'm very much in the same boat in that a lot of my early drawing years were spent copying other people's art that i would find online . not to post or anything obv but i sort of treated them as my own personal studies (this was back in my traditional art days) so i just had sketchbooks filled with art tht was, fr all intents and purposes, Not My Own :'> I don't think it was until i got into digital art and posting my own stuff that i really had to start nurturing a style that i could call my own and it was clumsy and awkward and hard but like anything it gets easier !

and look ik copying (and even to an extent using reference) can get a bit of a bad rep but i honestly think it's such a good way to train the eye and learn what u like and just practice in general . ofc u run the risk of copying another artist's mistakes but that's besides the point rn. at the end of the day the things we like and the media we consume influence us !!! there's no shame in it !!! my style has run the gauntlet of cutesy to whatever tf im working with now and so much of it depends on the media im currently into ! like go back to my tg and yoi days and i think it's so obvious that i was very influenced by more shoujou anime/kyotani/idol game art styles whereas now i think it's Very apparent that my tastes have changed fHFDHh

it's so hard to put a timeline on how u Develop an art style.,, i think it just happens when you're not looking until one day u look at a collection of ur work and go Huh! but tbh even the whole concept of an "art style" is so arbitrary bc it rly is so fluid? like yeah there r elements that might b a bit more specific to each artist but i think those r just more Ingrained habits that we carry with us even while experimenting with other techniques . as fr advice i can offer its probably obvious given th earlier part of this answer but i am, as always, a huge proponent of using references and insp pics and here is my obligatory call to practice practice practice but all that to say i think as long as u r drawing u r on the right track <3

theres this quote by Yohji Yamamoto i think of often tht goes smth like 'start copying what u love and at the end of the copy u will find yourself' and tbh. life philosophy . art and media do not exist in a vacuum so embrace what inspires u to create ! i am like kirby. i see what i like, i Absorb and, to an extent, i Become :)

[mallbangs]

in 2017, i tried to start this project where anyone could call a number and leave a voicemail of literally anything; sounds, memories, whatever they wanted that was tied to a music project called enoshima that had gone dormant until “recently”. i put “recently” in quotes bc i guess we will just have to wait and see (if ur like me with trying to find new music, if u do enough digging on the internet i’m sure you’ll find some stuff) the goal was to use a landline phone with cassette answering machine so i could keep hard copies for a future use of an idea. after buying three used landline phones and phone calls not triggering the answering machines but luckily would still get email copies of the few voicemail audio files i did…in short, the idea failed miserably due to lack of reach, personal reasons, and money because its not free to have a phone number lol and the enoshima project just went dormant with its own reasons as well…

in 2019, i started to brainstorm a more intentional concept that would connect the caller/listener with the music i had started to write (the current project, mallbangs, that i feel lucky enough and honored to work with the people i do now and have had worked with previously, when it always feels so embarrassing for me to release any of it) and the kind of experience i am trying to thread together now, community and a space in the art, music from inside and outside the digital space. i guess attempting to ground the way that i and i think a lot of ppl consume art these days; strictly through their phones.. it’s why i use my music in the voicemail videos and posts with the hope that ppl make the connection that it’s tied together..well.. it sorta started to gain very little traction but better than it had ever previously.

i think the fact that it began to reach ppl was in part due to 2020 and everything that started unfolding that year; pandemic, quarantine, school years and graduations/normal experiences just evaporated, here in the united states the murders of george floyd and rayshard brooks and the summer uprising of 2020.. i could obviously go on… come january 4th 2022, after a year or so of randomly posting about it because i started to think it wasn’t something ppl were really interested in, it went viral. i spent literally 24 hrs, multiple days, no sleep, emptying the voicemail box every 10 - 20 minutes because that many ppl were calling. i got so anxious, and this feeling of guilt because i wanted everyone who was calling to have the ability to leave one. i didn’t want to let anyone down those first weeks. it’s not as intense as it was then but im still emptying the voicemail box multiple times a day. i’m ngl i freaked out. it was completely overwhelming.

through out last year the project, my personal, and music accounts nearly got banned about 20 times or so because i was unaware that i was doing something that wasn’t allowed on a certain platform. somehow, all of the accounts survived, and it’s up to over 80k voicemails. i even started accepting DMs to post just in case speaking was too much for someone and that’s at a few thousand now. started a p.o. box as well and that’s been very little. allowing the project to evolve into web of different formats naturally as it feels that it wants to. i’m not sure if someone’s written words are any easier to absorb than hearing some ppls pain audibly. both written and audio recorded msgs have made me breakdown more than i can count on what seems inevitable but still for unknown reasons to myself, unexpected.

the new song gutter was inherently inspired and written about all of those emotions i had and have been feeling from the voicemails and what not as well as my own personal shit whether i was consciously aware of it at the time or not. some of the time im oblivious when writing. more often than not it just happens melodies and lyrics fall out like word vomit. stream of consciousness or serendipitous i guess. it became evident it was inspired by all of the aforementioned when i started trying to piece together random lyrics it already had ruminating and while demoing it out. the song had started to, in a way, show me what i was trying to convey. which is why you hear the guttural stutter in the beginning and end. its the dying sound of the radio in my car i no longer have for transportation and hundreds of voicemails collaged together in the demo. When i went to actually record the song, i insisted on keeping that collaged stutter of voicemail’s and noise bc it would have lost what i felt made it even more personal for me. idk if this is fucking pretentious or stupid to say, but that incessant stutter is like symbolic for getting drowned out when u need to be heard.. isolation.. denial.. i guess, if the lyrics are even that revealing. i always try to make lyrics not so surface level but yea i think this one is maybe more surface level than others and yea i just think the stutter sounds cool too.

if you’ve been following the music or the voicemail project for a while, this song could either have been a subliminal experience (of) or maybe surface level at best what its place is in either the VM project or in the music; descending from the official version, a demo version lazily titled “sorry demo”, and the early version which was an acoustic demo. the latter of said three versions had long been the de facto voicemail project song for a while, I guess. 

if its familiar to you because you know me its probably because, as you know, I tend to neurotically play so many song ideas on the guitar into the ground that it’s to the point I don’t realize Im playing them when im around y’all lol 

to everyone else, if this song had been familiar at all to you prior to it being released it is because the acoustic demo version was used around that period of time in 2022 when i was repeatedly getting threatened with being banned.. potentially losing the VM project’s account, the art, and the memories of genuine interactions with strangers that I often tend to think isn’t really real sometimes. Like having felt some of you accepted me for me or what I am emotionally/comfortably able to present to you online..and in that sentiment irl I maybe take for granted interactions with new potential friends or even strangers sometimes as well tbh. 

I realize all of that previous paragraph could be redundant, im sorry :/ But, I have such strong passion for the music and the voicemail thing. So much so that i’ve never monetized any of the voicemail stuff. i’ve never made any “merch/products” to sell or have tried to turn it into a business because these things i create or write mean more to me than the idea of “curating for profit”. never intended for any of the voicemail stuff to be a “marketing strategy” thing. the music hasn’t been recognized as part of this thing, probably due to my lack of making the concept of all of this clear, and probably because of my pride in not wanting any of this to be perceived as such. which i know in this capitalistic hellscape it will be ripped off and done in such a way that someone may be successful from it, its already happening as many have pointed out to me.

out of all this silly voicemail thing and my musical attempt, the most important thing i’ve learned is that everyone just needs someone to speak to even if they don’t talk back. someone just to listen. to be able to get lost in music that takes them somewhere they can feel comfortable like i try to do everyday when listening to music. the voicemails, the DMs, writing music.. it gets very mentally and emotionally overwhelming for me.. listening to them everyday, reading the DMs everyday, struggling to gather the energy in me that never seems to wither to just write.. and if someone offered me a path that is without any of that? i wouldn’t take it. even if it meant making some of these lingering feelings just go away for good.

a few people have told me to end the project because they’re afraid of what it could be doing to me. their concern is valid. i won’t deny that. but i feel as if this thing is larger than myself at this point. and i think the take away for me from all of this is that, im just glad this silly little idea may be helping someone when i myself most times feel like i have nowhere to go or no one to run to. and if i die tomorrow ill be at some what of peace knowing that if i have done anything worth meaning in this short experience of life that we all get to share with one another, its the music and this voicemail project and the community, the safe space ..all of whatever the music and this project has given someone…everything i feel that i never had. i feel eternally honored and grateful that if at all, it has helped someone when i couldnt even help myself.

there’s nothing i could give that’s of equal value to the gratitude i have for anyone that has ever left a msg of some sort and has or continues to support this project and the music. so all i can say is thank you.

with all the love i have,

aidy <3

[nanjokei]

on what is considered "official art" and conduct between fandom across the globe

i think there is a fascinating cultural difference between what is considered free to use by fans in the """west""" in general and specifically japan. in recent years, the playing field has become somewhat leveled: most people who are in the know know that fanart should not be reposted or used without permission whether it be for copyright reasons or just out of respect for the human being who made it, but it's ok to use what is agreed upon to be "official art"—

er, what IS official art? if you ask the answer is different between regions. tying back to strict copyright, a lot of japanese fans will consider even anime screenshots a big no-no, because they are not yours, unless they were posted to be used (for example when an official twitter account gives out heavily embellished promotional graphics to use as icons and sometimes headers). so really, there isn't any such thing as "official art is ok" unless the express worded intention of the rights owner is "you can use this". of course, not everyone observes it, but it IS upheld and kinda faux pas to violate. and i said japan specifically because other nearby countries like s korea and china, their fandoms aren't so strict (i assume bc the rights holder can't do shit outside of japan), but they still uphold rules if a creator says it out loud. i'll come back to this later

for us, official art is anything coming from the horse's mouth really, be it magazine scans, promotional art, standing images, art from the original artist/mangaka, game files— these are free reign to this side of the globe culturally. it's not a social faux pas and in fact considered more ethical to do this (but not to be trumped by just making your own rendition, still). now for stuff like magazine scans, that stuff is definitely very NG because it's sold, you have to buy the magazine to see it. but due to inaccessibility in early animanga fandom days (and honestly, for a lot of magazines, you still need savvy to get your hands on them), a culture of sharing with others was born. the topic of how and why cds and magazines are still alive in japan is a conversation on its own so i won't go into it. it's a whole can of worms we can open another day.

for anime and commercial games, it's honestly whatever right? like who cares. what i wanna circle back to is individual creators tackling the culture gap here. your indie game, web manga/novel, music etc creators of the world/internet. though i'll mostly use indie game devs as an example as those cases i am most familiar with. in japan AND other eastern countries, there's a level of respect leveraged to the individual creator's wishes— they're usually simple requests like DON'T USE OR EDIT MY ART. my beef here is, why do people on this side have so much trouble respecting guidelines? some creators will allow people to use even in-game files, so long as it isn't edited. but they ask, for example, their personal art not be used.

a segway but, this is also a difference that exists in japan (i'm not sure about other places), but an artist that works on an official work... not all their art is "official art"! for example, an artist who makes art for an otome game. they may doodle a character they like. i think by our definition, this is considered official art, but in reality it is FANART. a lot of them will cover their asses just to be safe and explicitly state it's fanart so it's not misconstrued as official art— often either so as not to influence the work with their own personal expressions OR not to get in trouble with the rights holder. this is really important to know in this topic

and yes, even if the characters belong to an individual creator, sometimes their art can be personal art that they don't want people to use. it's really not hard to grasp and yet there are cases of artists being peeved by the actions of overseas fans (i try to avoid using "western" as much as possible bc its such a weird term that leaves a bad taste in my mouth, eastern too but lol). one case where a creator halted a translation project due to them being sick of overseas fans using and editing their art after trying to get them to stop several times but to no avail. i'm surprised this isn't happening more often because honestly i'll be frank for a second and say that while they tend to skew young, fans of free games have no excuse. i understand it's either immaturity or "it's online so i can take it" culture OR most likely, i think it is the cultural misunderstanding of "it's official art". but also in that specific case, a certain western indie game dev commented that that creator "should be grateful that people are playing their games at all". are you for fucking real?

you literally only see """western""" fandom commit such faux pas though. is it individualism? is it because i am raised in a collectivist culture that i don't fully get it? the subject fascinates me until it gets to thinking about the disrespect of indie creators. then i just get kinda smad

[cheswirls]

oh the woes of having multiple hobbies....

i think it being artfight month is making me sink back into the 'i shouldn't want to do anythin but draw until this is done' mood i usually have during the semester which is.. ick, kinda

the other day i had the urge to write (unmedicated too!! that doesn't happen very often anymore!) and i should've jus acted upon that but i ended up guilttripping myself w the whole 'you should do art instead its only 30 days its only once a year' which is already so suffocating. i ended up doing neither actually in part bc i psyched myself out abt making a choice so in the nd i made no choice (typical when unmedicated so this is the okay-ish norm tbh) and think i tired myself out enough to go to sleep. i woke up to an art file on my laptop so i intented to start smth i guess

also i think checking out an ipad from campus during the semester is so much easier to draw on vs the hassle that is drawing on my display tablet these days. i miss my wacom if only bc it was wireless and thin and easy to power on and get going. with this new tablet i have to plug in 3 diff cords and its bulkier nd i gotta scoot my laptop on my desk to still be in reach bc the tablet has no touch function and it takes A LOT of power and effort out of my laptop thats 12 yrs old now. it makes drawing digitally that much more of a chore tbh and is partially the reason i've doodled so much traditionally in the past year and kept all my digital art for uni work only

which another point. is uh. idk i think i'm rambling now but. last year i got super excited for artfight and drafted a bunch of stuff digitally and was sitting at the coffee table in the main room of my apt for the first time in so long and it was going well until i got rly into tetherverse again n started working on the sequel like mad and that stole away a lot of my drawing motivation. i had two handfuls of of artfight attacks sketched and only ever finished a SINGLE one last year which was terribly disappointing. and then i think realizing that at the end of the month absolutely killed my desire to work on the writing project i'd grown so passionate about too. vicious cycle all around rly.

i dont want it to be llike that this year but once again now that artfight is here even tho its a fun thing i've made it a "requirement" in my mind which kills all my passion to work on it. i think the term is... obligation? when something turns from doing it for fun into an obligation i Have to complete then i lose allllllll motivation and desire to do it. it's THEEE reason i'm always telling my dad i could never write books for a living, bc writing is a hobby first nd foremost and although i enjoy it a lot i know as soon as i become tied down to a project and i Have To complete it or face consequences then it will suck all the fun out of it

this is the same way for school and part of the reason uni's been so hard since.... ever, really, and it's jus taken me long to realise it. i get really into an art project at the start and then as deadlines and check-ins and such creep up i become less and less engaged. i have no trouble completing things in one sitting if given the time to do so if i'm 100% invested and engaged. during spring break 2022 i stayed up for almost three nights and two days and did nothing but research and write almost 25k for a fic opener. if i had work or anything else those days i literally cannot recall. the only thing i remember doing is taking a break to walk 15min to go and pay rent and that's when it rly set in how much caffeine i'd had and how long i'd been up writing.

all of that to say that if i'm into something i can waste away working until it's done. i've said this before bit making a wip folder for art Killed™ my art creating process. i used to have one file open and work on it until it was done, and if that took me more than one full day then i'd sleep on it and finish it the very next day. i don't rmember that happening very often. now i leave things unfinished all the time and its terrible. i also have a Lot Less free time to be fair but also. also. i cannot multitask so as soon as i save a wip and move on to the next it fucking bites the dust. i've gotten into the habit of leaving smth unfinished in another window on csp in hopes that i'll jump bck to it but i stopped that after a while bc i jus collect windows like i collect internet browser tabs.

i also think to go along w the time thing.. i have to mentally acknowledge that i have sufficient time to devote to smth. i'm not the type of person that can do smth for 15 min then jump up and do smth else. if i could write 100 words a day for a fic every day then i'd have far, far less wips than i do now. its harder especially to do this for fic bc a lot of what i do is longer work and sometimes i have to sink into it. if i'm writing for a 50k+ fic i haven't touched for even a month then i need time to go over what i have and what my plans are. it's much harder to work on a longer fic after a bit has passed than it is to pick up a shorter one bc it requires less time to dive back into the world. especially if its been like 6mo-1yr, before i even start writing again i gotta reread everything i've written up to that point. that takes more than a day, and i might get tired and move on to smth else before i've even finished rereading which is so exhausting. it's exhausting to work on so many diff things at once.

with art that means i gotta have time to fight w my display tablet and get everything settled. it takes so much work and effort that if i only have a couple hours, i feel like even that's not enough bc i know i'll have to stop before i'm done. if it takes me 90 minutes to get into drawing and i gotta be ready to leave in another 30 then like whats???? the point rly???? that's how i think tho!!!! it sucks !!!!! if i'm up at 8am but ik i have smth to do at 5p then my whole day revolves around that thing happening in 9 hrs. when it hits 12p i theoretically have enough time to do smth but executive dysfunction makes it hard to pick a singular task to prioritize, and when its 3hrs away from w/e i have to do suddenly nothing is worth it anymore. i'm very much a 'sink into it' creative person which means i cannot jus dive in and work on smth. i gotta have music, i gotta have some focus, i gotta be comfortable, i gotta have my mood set to w/e i'm doing, i gotta know what direction i'm going in,a nd i gotta have energy and enthusiasm to do said creative task. all of that aligning w/ inattentive adhd is so hard and makes life so miserable, but this is compounded even moreeeeeee by not being able to work unless i make my mind feel like i have ample time to do so. mainly bc if i get rly into smth then have to stop for an obligation that i'd rather do less (mainly work! rather would do anything but work but alas) than what i'm doing currently then it drains all my energy very rapidly and i get so disappointed. w/e i'm doing after, whether it be work or class or w/e, is with an air of such disdain bc it interrupted the 'special thing i was doing' that it makes life hell in all honesty. i want to put myself thru that the least amount of times possible which is why i never start anything i know i'll have to put down w/o being able to finish. let me rephrase that. being able to finish as i'd like it. working on a super long fic but writing enough for a chapter or running out of steam on my own and finishing a scene and then being dragged away to smth else is fine, bc i've "finished" on my end even if not in full. it's being interrupted in the middle of the process when i'm not ready to quit, basically. that kind of "finished" is what i mean. if i have 2 hrs and it takes me an hr to find references and i'm not exhausted after that then another 20m to sketch smth decent and only with like half an hr or so left am i into what i'm doing then what's the point?? especially when, as established, i can push a drawing into the wip folder and forget abt it if i'm no longer "into it" when i'm back and have time to draw again.

long rambling i'm tired of but basically it's the season of drawing obligations again and i wanna try this year to have fun and do what i want but ALSo not feel guilty abt doing smth that is not drawing for other ppl, which i already do so much of year round anyway (i love it, this is not a complaint). i wanna be able to write and play pkmn and read and do whatever and not feel like i Have to be artfighting every second of the day.

[hekatekun]

yaoi was horrendous this week genuinely great job i am always obsessed with your uncanny ability to put todomatsu under a magnifying glass and burn him like an ant ^__^ cannot wait for chapter 5!!! i noticed a change in direction though particularly in how you characterize todomatsu's interactions w atsushi which i really liked!! i am curious though what prompted it :33

thank you^^<3 there's probably a few different reasons both intentional and unintentional. to start, ccckk will have 10 chapters, however in its original "outlining" i intended to have 9 chapters

i've shared my hyperlinked table of contents on a few different posts now, mostly as cockteasers. but also i literally don't think i could navigate the google doc without it atp

i think theres like 30k of it published? so there's on average at least 1-2k worth of a scene in all 6 of the unpublished chapters that i've chipped away at over the last 3 years, bc ofc some are more developed than others. there's never been a solid outline for ccckk but rather a string of scenes i knew i wanted at certain intervals, like milestones, and i had wanted to retro-engineer the rest around those concepts

with that in mind, ch10 isn't a real chapter but more like a coda i wrote right after publishing ch1 and so the rest has been "how do i move the story from ch1 to this epilogue?" the plot is only in the first 9 chapters, so i structured it with three "acts" in mind and tried to have the chapter titles reflect that - both for my own amusement and to ground the ideas better lest i forget what wasn't written yet. so if ch4 starts "act 2" then it should show off that shift. but also, i never intended ccckk to be a slowburn, more like a...... medium burn ig? it's supposed to be a todomatty character study first and foremost, after all

each chapter should feel episodic to some extent, since i paced it on individual chapter "goals" rather than wordcount or anything (tbh i actually thought i would only ever hit ~50k total but if i'm not even halfway done and i'm at 30k now? jesus fuck. fuck me. what the fuck did i do.) if i've planned/structured the story like i'm fitting individual glass pieces into a metal frame, then by god you're gonna get the yaoi-est stain-glass art you've ever seen outside church in your life. it's why ch4 utilizes something like a montage, to show that ~passage of time~ and what that did to their dynamic now in this act 2

as to what that situationship dynamic actually ended up looking like on the big screen, i definitely blame @moeatsushi's art for that one^^ a lot of it made me realize i could definitely make them..... messier? nastier? gayer? [insert tumblrbait adjective]? for a lack of a better word. and that i could balance That with the surrealist realism that i wanted to achieve when translating the show into prose. also helped me get out of a general writer's block<3

beyond all that, i think part of it comes from me now being 23 writing yaoi instead of writing yaoi at 20. not that my brains developed any more, but my opinions have changed. like, to the point i find it hard to read the previous chapters when i have to reference them. ch1 really is a mark of shame to me ngl only god knows how i wouldve wrote it now. i had a friend look at it a few weeks ago and they called that shit "college freshmen posting on wattpad" 😓 which is already how i felt about it but whatever. post and move on. i (probably) won't repost/edit since that's more work that no one's paying me for, and it (probably) isn't as bad as my perfectionist monkey brain feels. anyway this isn't about being emo it's my precursor to admitting that there's a good chance i went off script bc i refused to look super close at my own goddamn source material/notes and decided winging it was better out of a mixture of laziness and pride at the cost of tighter consistency/characterization

[masschase]

you can answer now or later but i’d be interested to hear you rank all the games

Getting drunk, want to ask me anything?

Ok I'm not there yet, I've had 3.5 shots now and I only feel a little tipsy but I'm wary bc my mum made this stuff and gave it to me last year so the % is a mystery. It may suddenly hit me while writing.

Anyway, oh my god so really like this is so hard because I know I'm not supposed to like 4 but you all know I do 😆 but also I find it really hard to rank games? To me it's hard enough to rank which of all the games/series I like I like best(fwiw I mostly rotate around Borderlands, Binding of Isaac, The Sims if it counts and obviously SR but there are definitely others that are my favourites on some days) and then SR I see as a whole in a way because of the way I've written it! Not a cop-out I swear like genuinely ranking is something I really struggle with and then I wonder if that's weird?

I guess how much I enjoy just hopping on them and fucking about them it's like 4, 1&3 joint, 2(probably jusr bc I've not played it much), gooh. And then I say this and I'm like what do I actually do on sr4 on my switch at the moment? Usually dress Casey up, take screenshots, leave. Anyway if I was looking at how well written they are I'd probably concede to 1&2, 3, 4, GOOH bc like 1 and 2 are linked for me like here's the thing. (Also I'm sorry but GOOH is something where I've used some plot points but a lot have been removed from my hc over time but I really didn't play that much of it. I liked that there were musical numbers though and giving me the new planet ending ofc bc thats been handy. But acrually... what would I have come up with without that ending but still following 4? I'm super curious)

Anyway back to 1&2. There's some stuff the creators knew in 1, right? That isn't *in* 1 but they knew it? Right? I've said before my favourite story arc just in terms of writing is just the whole arc between Playa and Julius. Idk nowadays I wish there was more like that in the later games. I wish the narrative weaved throughout a lot better. When I was first playing though I wasn't as concerned, like I always said I wanted games with an interesting storyline but I wasn't too bothered with amazingly written.

Also at the same time I like weaving a story around what we are given. Obviously I was intent on writing a romance. But I do sometimes think about writing the whole thing, in my canon adjacent manner. Start to finish. I see these games all spanning a matter of months so there is a lot that goes on that we don't see. But then again I lose confidence in writing it bc I lose confidence in my own oc. It doesn't help that I characterise her differently on tumblr than my fanfic because I started off just wanting to do silly cartoons. Like I never thought art as such, I thought... accompany my writing with a visual, you know? I thought if I started with some little moments I could work up to telling the more serious and/or romantic shit later I guess? Shout out to my friends I rp with for helping me get back to that more tangible real person Casey bc I obviously do love her. In her own way. Even if I don't want to. Kind of like SR4.

Anyway to get back to thr point I was going to say, this will not surprise anyone but I haven't sunk a lot of time into the games. I finished 4 years ago and restarted on switch bc I traded in my 360 version ajd lost my XB1 version. I finished 1 years ago and I don't have it anymore because I used to work in a game shop and could borrow most pre-owned games for a month, i should re-buy it digitally. I semi-finished 3 and then went back and finished it this year. And I haven-T actually finished 2, although I've watched it all which I know is not the same. 🥲 so yeah. I'm a fail fan. My brain wants to create and create and create things for this series (ok maybe not in the last few weeks but its still been on my mind. Like a lot) but I'm genuinely sorry if they're lacking in substance sometimes because of all of this.

I was going to replay them all in order this summer but I didn't. I have maybe an hour or so a day when I can actually play whereas I can write or draw or rp with smol people around or on the bus to/from work. When I worked in the game shop that really sucked out my passion for games. I know it sounds silly bc I was selling them not playing them but it did do that. I think it was mostly just having a full time job that did it and some of it being gaming was coincidal. But hey at least I played SR1 for free right? 😆

BTW I constantly think about if I went the route of having my SR1 Playa I made be the actual Playa, maybe sr2 Boss too and then Casey take over later and be the original age I guess I would've seen for her? Idk that would have been interesting. Don't think I don't love working it all into one too though! You know I have such a soft spot for baby Casey 😭 in fact of the in-game you've seen her the most. I mean think about it, most of my content is post-sr4 not during. Actually a lot of it is gap filling in general. It's something I like, obviously.

Just to go back to like... the shifting hcs thing. It's not super evident but a lot has changed since I wrote my fanfic. I'm not going to go crazy main universe, I'll save that for AUs. But there are a few things I've tweaked in the back of my mind because I've let go of canon a little. I used to be glued to canon, now we're in an intricate little dance. Anyway this is long enough already. I sort of answered. It may seem like a spineless dodging the point way. But I've said on numerous occasions my hcs change regularly, and the same is true here tbh. Its very mood dependant, what I want to play.

But if nothing else interesting comes from this I AM PURCHASING SR1. POSSIBLY RIGHT NOW. IT'S BEEN YEARS. I WANT TO PLAY IT AGAIN. :D

BTW I'm sure a little while ago I noticed Dex says "aight" but his subtitles say "alright" whereas Troy says "alright" but his subtitles say "aight"? Like if it was just one of them fair could just be the difference between writing and speaking but I think they're flipped? Anyone know what I'm on about?

[ecoevoexo]

i hate the ai art debates so i dont wanna get too involved but like, ive studied art a lot, and ive been an artist my whole life. as a very disabled person i was trying to start making art my career last year, since its one of the few things i can successfully do, & im sort of giving up bc at this point it feels like a dead end.

ive also used AI art thingamabobs a bunch. its fun. its fun that you can say "femboy osama bin laden funko pop" and get something that looks like that back. at times it can be a useful way of playing around with composition, value, and palettes.

only... it's all kinda the same. because of how it works, it aggregates trends and turns them into norms. you end up with a lot of normative bodies in heroic poses in the well-lit center of a tableau.

and that's a genuine problem. not just because it weakens the visual culture & its variety, but because some of those elements (normative heroic individual) are a characteristic of conservative and fascist art.

now the question of the politics of aesthetics is a difficult one to pin down, but it's foolish to act as if aesthetics never has a political character. when i spend a lot of time engaging with AI generated images i start to have an uncomfortable nagging feeling i also get when i spend too much time looking at propaganda. i don't think this is intentional on the part of AI creators. my real worry is that it's a functional inevitable result of how AI works. the flattening of cultural output into certain unitary trends has an underlying politics, i think that can't be avoided, and that politics shows up in the content it produces.

this isn't my only problem w using AI generated images as art output, but it's one i haven't really seen people talk about. when people critique, for example, "bigtiddyanimegirltrendingonartstation" aesthetics, i notice that they rarely mention the fact that the composition of those pieces is uncomfortably uniform, and follows the same basic "heroic portrait" aesthetics one might expect from a painting of a US president, if he had big anime tiddies.

now the artist Andres Serrano is most known for his infamous work Piss Christ, but i personally find his entire output to be fascinating, because he's essentially engaging in a constant détournement of the heroic aesthetic in art. part of why Piss Christ is effective is because it is beautiful, because it shares the aesthetics of so many faithful loving representations of jesus. if you want to see what i'm talking about with fascist aesthetics, look at the pieces from Serrano's series named Shit. it's nothing but heroic photography of literal shit, and i think it's great because it enables us to examine the heroic form bereft of everything but its visual symbology.

now, there are times i quite like the heroic form. it has its place in scifi, fantasy, even in antifascist political art. i've been experimenting with using this imagery and symbology a lot in recent years while representing queer feminine otherness, as a contrast to the patriarchal world i normally find in art. the problem that i have is that our current totally-not-fascist-wink-wink era there's enough heroic art out there to dilute the reference pool. which is to say, when an AI is training, it is disproportionately exposed to art that can frequently have compositional aesthetics with a fascistic bent, and because those aesthetics are all shared (a "norm"), it will be more reinforcing on the AI's internal model than the many other potential compositional aesthetics. with a human, i can conscientiously choose to disregard the norm and try to make something different--and that's hard! it requires willpower. with an AI, everything is infected with norms.

and this doesn't just mean compositional aesthetics. it means body types, skin color, etcetera. the way these AIs currently work, at least, you have to be very skilled with your inputs to not get very normative outputs. you can see this, for example, in the nature of Loab, which essentially shows how an AI is learning to model the idea of disgustingness, and to give it a human face.

now normativity has always been a problem with art. but as we pass the creativity of the artist on to a process without conscious supervision, the risk increases.

i think some of the best most interesting AI art are failure pieces. stuff where the algorithm gets confused and limbs pop out of walls and a head is coming out of the ground, phantasmagoric morph scapes. these are things that are going to be increasingly lost with time, as AI gets more skilled. we should celebrate and explore them instead, it might help derail the machine of normativity.

i also think it's very interesting to do creative explorations of AI's internal reality, such as Loab. that's cool, genuine, creative stuff. that is, in my opinion, a good way to engage with these tools, exploring their internal structures and limits.

but i of course share concerns about the effect on artists--and it's bullshit to act like art directors won't preferentially use AI works over paying actual creatives, it's already begun to happen. the idea of the artistgeoisie that some people have is utterly out of touch with the precarious nature of creative labor in the 21st century. for more, read the book Capital Is Dead, Is This Something Worse?

i also have these aesthetic concerns. i've found most aesthetic concerns about AI to be, frankly, stupid. i don't care if it's soulless or ugly or if there's too many fingers. all those can be interesting. but i do worry that, like a lot of algorithm-based mechanization, it can function as a self-reinforcing echo chamber of some of the worst social constructs of our society.

and it raises an important question: what does it mean to bring an algorithm or a simulated neural net into the process of social construction? what are we doing to our society when we give up the reins to something that is a glorified mechanism?

[roger-that-cap]

wildest dreams

witch!wanda x reincarnated!reader 

summary: wanda had walked around the earth for centuries with no magic and hardly any soul left after losing her soulmate. she thought that her lover would never return and that the only reunion they would have would be in the afterlife, but a run-in with bucky changes everything after he insists that he met the long gone y/n at a fountain in the park. 

yet another au by me... 

word count: around 6.5k?

imma tag one person bc she gets upset when she isn’t tagged- and idk if anyone else would actually be interested?

@teenwonder

also this picture is not mine, and the dividers are by @firefly-graphics !!

without further ado, it’s almost 6 in the morning but i give you this!!

She held you tight, fingers digging into your skin as she trembled above you. The rose bushes were rustling in the wind next to you both, the sweet smell of the flowers contrasting with the moment. You were halfway gone already, eyes far off but trying to swim back to the surface, wanting to look at her one last time before the inevitable happened. 

  “S…” you tried to say, but she hushed you immediately, tears falling down on your face and mixing with your own. You shook her head at her as hard as you could, begging for her to let you continue. “Say you’ll remember me,” you ground out, fingers tightening around her hand. 

  “What?” Wanda asked, voice already thick with grief as she tried to decide whether or not it was better to keep the knife lodged between your ribs inside of you.

“When I come back-” you cut yourself off by coughing up blood, and Wanda didn’t even wince when it splattered on her cheek. “Back for you, promise that you’ll remember me.” 

 “Darling,” Wanda whispered back, her voice cracking as she bent over and rested her head on your stomach for a moment, hiding her sob. She could feel her magic tingling inside of her; under her skin, in her bones, dancing on her fingertips. “I wish I knew- I wish I just knew how-”

  “Please.” You said, a desperate look in your eyes as you halted her words, already knowing what Wanda wanted. But natural magic was nothing to mess with. She sobbed again with her lips pressed together, no sound escaping her. You squeezed her hand tighter as the sun started on its routine descent, basking the two of you in an orange glow that you would have stopped to admire in any other moment in time. But Wanda would grow to hate that shade of orange with every breath in her. “Please.” It would always remind her of the sound of your begging, voice reaching for something that she couldn’t see. 

Maybe it was the desperation in your voice, or the way that she just knew that you were well within your last moments, because she looked up at you one last time. “Of course I’ll remember you, darling. I couldn’t even dream of forgetting you.” There was a wheezing sound that came from your chest as you cracked a bloody smile, and then you gave one last squeeze before you looked away from her, your soul settling in the afterlife. 

  Wanda Maximoff would never forget it. Suddenly, her previously  irrational fear of losing her magic became real, but that feeling didn’t even come close to the one she got when you grew lifeless in her arms. 

Ever since you knew what a normal person was supposed to be like, you had identified that you, in fact, were not the normal person that you were probably supposed to be. Normal people didn’t daydream to the point where it felt like their bodies weren’t in the present anymore. Normal people didn’t have birthmarks under their ribs that aced and burned. Normal people didn’t feel out of touch with their world, like they weren’t even meant to be in the century they were in. Normal people didn’t feel like they were searching for something tirelessly, something just under their noses. And normal people surely didn’t dream of the same set of hands, same pair of eyes, or the same voice over and over again, a new setting every time, but always the same, faceless person. You either drew the same faceless person or rose bushes, and every sketch book you ever had was full of them. 

At first, you were sure that you were going insane. Every time you closed your eyes, you would see a flash of reddish brown hair, or the same set of eyes, or the same pair of pale hands. You kept seeing this person without ever seeing a face for nights at a time before you went to see a therapist, who just ended up telling you that worrying about it was only going to make it worse, whatever it even was. But eventually, you learned to get used to it. 

Acceptance turned into expectancy. You went to sleep knowing that there was going to be a pair of hands accompanied by the same slender fingers as always before you, sometimes intertwined with your own. You knew that there was going to be a set of eyes on you, watching you intently with no ace to go with them. You knew that you would hear whispers of the same voice, speaking so clearly in a language you didn’t even come close to understanding, and soon, you were craving to see and hear those things. And wanting to see them led to something that you never told your therapist; drawings. 

You drew nearly every day under the sky, trying to find different park benches to see the sun rise and set at different angles for inspiration. You loved the sky, moon and stars alike, but there was something special about sunrises and sunsets. Sunrises and sets both meant new beginnings to you, out with the old and in with the new, and each rise and fall filled you with a strange feeling of nostalgia. You were watching the sunset on a park bench by yourself, a sketchbook sitting on your lap as you held an idle pencil, still thinking about the way you wanted to draw the hands. The birthmark between your ribs started to tingle, letting you know that it was about to burn again. That damn birthmark. You dropped the pencil and scratched at it, trying to beat the annoying feeling at its own game. You cursed the mark, but your eyes didn’t leave the sky, and you noticed your heart swelling in your chest, faint despair in the pits of it, churning around like the middle of the deep sea. 

 You shook your head and put your pencil in your hand again, brain not even having to work hard at all to see the features of the faceless person who was in your every dream. 

Even before she ever met you, Wanda didn’t sleep well. She would toss and turn for at least an hour before she finally found some temporary, flimsy form of peace. Her sleep was always light and she hardly ever had dreams, which was customary for a woman like her at the time- an un-blossomed witch. 

It was hard for her to remember the time where she didn’t have magic, but that time certainly existed. It lasted nearly thirty years. She never aged a day past twenty one, time moving past her without a care in the world. She was stuck right there, no magic except for the little bit in her bones that was keeping her young. And then she met you. 

You were the person that kicked her magic into gear. You were her kindred soul, her other half and the power to her magic. Meeting you had flung her right into the world of magic and spells, things that she only watched others do, but even as she was introduced to an entirely different world, she could remember only really wanting you. Her heart and soul called to you far louder and stronger than spells called to her eager mind. When she met you, it all fell into place. It was an easy love, one that was never going to be disputed or questioned, and loved it. She was prepared to move heaven, earth, and the gods for you, if she had to. Your arrival into her life had caused her to finally blossom. 

But now, she had bloomed and flourished and wilted all the same, and she was just waiting to decompose. 

“Have hope,” was all that Bucky, a warlock who had been tortured enough in his own way, would tell her. “Have hope that something good will come to you, and it will.” 

She never had the heart to tell him that good things hardly came to those who waited. He himself was a product of waiting, and it had served him well. Before he met his other half, he was taken by a rival clan and experimented on with spells that were so far past illegal that they made the casual witch shudder. Eventually, he was broken out and the rival clan was defeated, but he returned to them as an empty shell of a man. But then, Steve came, and then the man was nothing but a ball of light. His magic grew to be strong and so did Steve’s, and together they became known as some of the strongest practitioners of magic in the world. 

 But what did Wanda have to hope for when you were gone? What did she have to wake up for and smile at when she knew that she had buried you hundreds of years ago? It wasn’t even about the magic. She couldn’t care less about the way she felt the energy leave her- and it was dramatic- leaving in a singular burst of light the second you left. She only knew that you were gone, and that was the only thing that mattered, and it seemed to be the only thing that she even really felt. 

Well, she did feel one other thing. Exhaustion. Exhaustion caused by the lack of you by her side. And exhaustion was exactly why she assumed that she was hallucinating when she felt a small tug at her heart, in a part of her brain that had been dormant for years and years. She shook her head and tried to take her thoughts away from you and the nagging feeling in her gut. 

“Oh, no…” you exclaimed, voice tapering out into a whine as you watched the ruined paper sink deeper and deeper into the fountain, a fist clenching at your side in disappointment when you realized how many hours were lost, just like that, and then even tighter when you realized that part of you wasn’t even truly upset about the time spent on the ruined art. You were mostly upset that you lost the only vision of the hands that you had during the daytime. 

You were on your knees, sleeves still all the way down as you reached into the water frantically, causing the paper to move even further away. You weren’t even worried about your sketchbook that had fallen open onto the pavement, more focused on the rapidly deteriorating piece of paper. You hardly even noticed the man who knocked into you talking, trying his hardest to make the situation better. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do?” 

“I mean,” you breathed out, taking the nearly disintegrated paper from the water and grimacing. When you realized that the man was fumbling to say something from behind you, celery apprehensive over the fact that you were upset, you took a short breath and turned around, giving him a small smile. He had dark brown hair that was cut short and crystal blue eyes that were striking, but you knew that they held thousands of stories by looking just once.  He was holding your sketchbook, and by the way he was gripping it tightly, you could tell that he had flipped through it for a second. “It’s just a drawing. I guess I can make another one.” 

  His eyes widened. You saw his jaw slacken and his neck stretch out, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He blinked three times, and his parted lips trembled for a second before he slammed them shut. You cocked a brow at him, your sadness about losing the drawing being replaced by a weak feeling of uneasiness. “Sir?” 

  “Knew it.” His face was clear from any type of emotion as he watched yours, and when you opened your mouth to ask him if he was okay, a grin spread across his face. “I’m Bucky, what’s your name?” You furrowed your brows at him, asking what the hell had just occurred without saying a single word. “I’m sorry, you just looked really familiar.” 

 Just like that, you smiled. You knew that feeling, you felt like you got deja vu far too often to be normal. You hated when people made you feel strange for it, you always had, so you tried your best to ignore it with him. “You’re fine, don’t worry. I’m Y/N.” You extended your dry hand for him to shake it. He stared at it for a moment, and then with an eagerness that made you smile, he shook your hand. 

“‘I’m Bucky.” 

  For a moment, you could have sworn that you had done more tha just seen him before. Could have sworn that you had shaken his hand, met him before, been at the receiving end of his blinding yet somewhat shy smile. It flashed through you warm and bright, and you cleared your throat before pulling your hand away and realizing you had held it for too long. You cleared it again when you saw something flash in his eyes, a weak smile lifting on your lips.

“It’s not her.” 

Wanda was furious. She was insulted more than anything, really, angry that Bucky could even mistake the light of you for someone else. She knew that you would never grace the earth with your presence again, and she was so used to the fact that she was going to have to die before seeing you again. And for one of her closest friends to try to convince her that you were back? 

 “She would have already found me.” And Wanda believed that with her whole heart. You had asked her so long ago that you remember her, like she could ever forget. Your scent was so flowery that whenever she walked past a growing garden that she smelled you, your smile was so bright that she saw it in the way the rays of sun came down on the earth. She heard your laugh in the chirping of the birds every morning, and she saw your playfulness in the running waters of the stream by the cabin. She could never forget you, because everything was traced back to you. And you would never return without finding her. 

“I don’t think she even knows it yet, but she is looking for you.” Bucky insisted, stepping forward and receiving Wanda’s burning glare while Steve stepped to the side and let it happen. “I bumped into her and she dropped her sketchbook. I saw her drawings- she drew your eyes.” 

  Wanda’s heart skipped a beat. “What?” 

“She dropped the drawing of hands in the water, but I saw she had drawn eyes that looked just like yours, hair the same shade as yours, even drawn the necklace you used to wear. She draws roses, too. I swear to everything above, it’s her.” 

She could feel herself getting warm, the sort of emotions stirring inside of her that had the potential to turn into a singular weapon. The thought of a rose bush made her sick to her stomach. “It’s not her.” 

“You forget that I knew her, too,” Bucky stated, and Wanda’s desolation was replaced by some ancient feeling of possessiveness. “I could never forget her face, and that was it right there. That was her face, without a shadow of a doubt, And her voice-” 

Wanda’s face curled into a snarl. “Stop talking about her.”  

“Hey, Wanda, take a deep breath,” Steve cut in, ever the mediator, but Bucky was hardheaded. If he thought something needed to happen, he was the one to push for it to happen, and he needed her to see. 

 “She looks the same as she did the day she left.” Wanda let out a choked noise. For a second, all she could picture was her lover dying by the blooming rose bushes in the sunset, ruining two of the most beautiful things in life at once. The third (but first) was you, but not even your horrible death could taint Wanda’s memory of you. You would forever be the brightest and most beautiful thing to grace the earth. “I got her number, we’re meeting at a coffee shop a few blocks away.” 

“Leave her alone.” Wanda said through gritted teeth, tears welling up in her eyes. When she saw the brunet’s eyes widen and his mouth drop open, she spoke before he could get a word in. “Just stay away from her, Bucky.” 

All she could think about was your death. The way you choked on your own blood. The way you cried and looked up at her, but still managed to smile. And as she was consumed by rage and memories, the only other thought in her mind was that she was yours and you were here, and that she couldn’t save you then. But she was surely going to preserve your memory from Bucky’s mouth. 

  “I know you feel it coming back. You haven’t felt it in so long, but it’s warm, right? It’s powerful. You always were the strongest, and you’re not dormant any longer. Stop lying to yourself and depriving yourself of love, Wanda. You know Y/N-”

  She saw red. Red as red as the fires that burned in the magma underneath the ground, as red as embers in a fire. “You don’t get to say her name.” She saw so much red, so much hot anger that hardly covered her sadness, that she didn’t even see the way that she had her hand out red coming from her palm as she lifted Bucky right off of the wooden floor of their shared home. “You don’t get to talk about her.” There was a warbling noise in her ears, whispers that sounded like her name, getting louder and louder until she finally realized it was Steve trying to get her attention. 

  “Wanda.” 

Instantly, she dropped her arm and watched Bucky fall to the ground, landing in a crouched position. She watched him catch his breath on the ground. She opened her mouth to apologize, to say that she felt terrible and that she had no idea what happened, what took over her, but she was stopped by the brilliant smile that came onto Bucky’s face. 

  “You used magic.” He said, slowly and steadily, not a hint of hesitance or animosity in his eyes or voice. Instead, he seemed more proud than anything. “You can’t deny this now, Wanda.” 

She was hyperventilating, the pain in her chest intensifying as she tried without any results to get the right amount of air in her lungs. She felt her knees hit the ground before she knew that she did, her hands covering her face as she sobbed into herself. Her heart ached, tugging in so many different directions as her brain fought to rationalize what everything meant. She had used magic,  and that meant that you were back, in one way or another. She was in disbelief. She was in despair. She was in shock. 

“I know you do, I know you do,” It was Steve’s arms around her, and Steve’s voice in her ear, and she realized that she had been saying I miss her, I miss her, over and over again until the words jumbled. “We know you do, Wanda. We miss her too.” 

But he didn’t understand. He hadn’t lost Bucky since he had found him. He hadn’t walked the earth for centuries after losing the only thing that mattered to him as an empty shell of the person he used to be. He would never understand, but that wasn’t his fault. In fact, she prayed that he would never understand. 

“I’m sorry I approached you like that,” Bucky said, crouching down and hugging her just as Steve was, enclosing her into a hugging circle. They were coven, related by magic, and just being around them made her tears subside. “But you know that I would have never said anything like that unless I was one thousand percent sure. I would never do anything to hurt you, Wanda. All I want is for you to be happy. And I know that I found her.” 

And how could he want anything but the best for her? He knew her just as much as Steve did. Just as much as she probably knew herself. He and Steve were the ones who stormed the coven that took you from her by her side, and they were the ones that helped her send them to their graves. They supported her through thick and thin, through revenge and peace, and mostly, they loved you almost as much as she did. Why would Bucky lie? 

Wanda blinked, staring down at her hands in fear and wonder as her heart beat started to get away from her. Steve’s warm hand landed on her shoulder, and she flinched from the sudden touch after such a rush of power. 

“I think you should go with him, Wanda.” Her heavy breathing was all that filled the air for a moment. “Just take a look at her from outside so you can leave if he was wrong without anyone knowing, but you should at least try. I think Buck’s right.” 

Wanda’s breaths were still labored. Her hands trembled as she moved hair from her eyes, and her lip quivered before she found the strength to mutter a few words. “Will she- will she remember?” 

“I think she will,” Steve said softly. “But she’s probably just a human. It may take more than just seeing you for her to remember everything.” 

 Her eyes were wet with tears, and her heart was so big with warmth and need that she was scared that it would burst open at the seams. But she was even more terrified to lose the idea of you. Slowly and shakily, she nodded, her head bobbing up and down as she sealed her own fate. “I’ll go.” She saw Steve give her his fatherly and supportive smile, small yet full. “I’ll see her.” 

You didn’t know how you were gently swindled into giving Bucky your number. You knew that it was nothing but friendly, but he was so charming that you felt like you could never not know him. In fact, it felt like you already did know him. He said something about maybe commissioning an artwork of yours, and of course that excited you. You were going to meet him at a coffee shop, in a public place even though you weren’t the slightest bit afraid of him. But something felt different. 

 It started once you got into your car. You were driving to get to the shop when tingles came down your spine, and bumps raised on your arms, like someone was whispering against your skin. You started to feel warmth come and go in waves, brushing against your mind and then retreating again. You shook off all of the strong feelings as you turned your car off, parked in front of the coffee shop while the music from your speakers filled the silence, soft piano music that was perfect for the weather. 

  It was drizzling, the kind of weather that you liked to call a “lover’s drizzle” because of how often it was seen in romantic scenes. Scenes of confession, of reunion, of desperation between two lovers- more often than not, they had the mild rain to stand in. You turned the music down before shutting your car off and then stepping out, closing the door and locking it immediately before walking briskly to the entrance of the coffee shop with your recent drawings in hand. 

 Bucky wasn’t there when you arrived. In fact, hardly anyone was there besides the few employees, who smiled at you when you entered but otherwise fell back into conversation amongst themselves, which was fine with you. There was one beefy blonde man who was sitting with a laptop and a ball cap on. He glanced up for a moment and then took a double take, blinking hard at you with a star struck look on his face, and then he shot his gaze back down and went back to typing.

You sat down at a table for two, the only type of table that was there besides the long, awkward study tables that they had set up in the center of the room. You would much rather take the intimate setting of a two-seater than to sit in the middle of the shop, so you did just that. You flipped through your work, looking at it closely now that you had the time. He had mentioned something about possible portrait work for a friend of his, so you naturally brought most of the drawings that you had done with hands, arms, eyes, hair, nearly everything that was the closest to your heart. You rested your palm on top of them and watched your fingers trace the slender ones that you had drawn in what felt like by memory at the time, like you were just remembering the way an old friend’s hands used to look. You peeled that one back and looked into the eyes, the strangest and prettiest light green color that made your heart pound every time you looked at it. You took a deep breath in.

  “That’s gorgeous.” You jumped in your seat as the chair in front of you pulled out from under the table, and there was the charming brunet that you had met by the fountain, giving you the same welcoming smile that he first granted you. You smiled back without hesitation, your heart warming at the sight. “You sure can draw.” 

  “I try,” you joked, your grin nearly splitting your face. “Do you drink coffee?” 

“Nah,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “But I like tea, though.” You gave him a thoughtful look. 

“Are you into herbal healing?” 

You could have sworn that there was some sort of excitement in his eyes, but you weren’t sure enough by the time he opened his mouth again. “Yes, actually! What, does it look like I’m into it?” 

“No,” you answered, and it was true. Bucky was huge. He had the kind of build that intimidated other guys at the gym, the kind that made athletes jealous. He looked like the typical meathead, but he was sweeter than you could have imagined. But he looked nothing like a man who would be into herbal healing. “Just a guess.” 

“Pretty good guess,” he mused, and you grinned back. Your head was in the clouds of some strange deja vu when he asked you if you wanted something, and the entire exchange of whether or not you were going to pay was on the back burner as you sifted through your thoughts. By the time he came back, you noticed that you must have told him that you liked hot chocolate, and that he must have paid. You scolded him before he sat back down, waving you off. It was silent for a few moments as you looked out of the window, the rain still steadily working through the atmosphere. The cup was comfortingly warm. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

  With any other man, you would have immediately told him no, or at least have your guard up. But there was just something deep down, so buried that it was faint, but it was there, that told you that he was nowhere even close to being a threat. “Yes.”

 He nodded, taking a sip of his tea and then putting his cup down gently before giving you an intense look. “Who’s the girl?”  

You frowned. “What girl?” 

He raised a singular brow. “The one you draw.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat. You blinked twice, and then tilted your head to the side. “I don’t draw just one person,” you said slowly, the lie dragging its way out of your mouth and through your teeth. “They’re different people.” 

“Oh,” he said, but the smirk on his face told you that he knew you were lying to him and to yourself. You sipped your drink and something tugged at you, telling you to look out of the window and into the rain again, just one more time before you spilled your guts about seeing things- and then something caught your eye. A flash of a familiar reddish-brown. You turned your full body to look that way, and once you did, you nearly dropped your cup. 

  There was a woman staring back at you, eyes wide and full of so much emotion that the artist in you wanted to rush to make an unworthy attempt at capturing it. Her lips were parted in pure shock, but you were watching them tremble even from far away. She was getting slightly damp in the rain, but she stood there like it didn’t even matter, just locking eyes with you and sending your heart rate through the roof. When your eyes finally came back to hers after looking at her for what felt like the quickest eternity, you gasped. You knew those eyes. 

  If you weren’t so deep into gazing at the woman stuck behind the glass, you would have noticed the pleased and content look on Bucky’s face, and the look that he gave the big blond sitting with a ball cap on all by himself. You would have noticed the way that the blond man was turning his body towards your table, watching with the same amount of anticipation as Bucky was. You tried to understand why she looked so familiar, why she was scratching the part of your brain that always tried to convince you that you were much older than twenty something- and then it hit you. 

  You had been drawing this woman. And you had been thinking about her ever since you knew how to think. It was just the first time you were ever seeing the full picture. “I-” you muttered, eyes stuck on her and the way she looked like she was about to topple over from emotions. The words got stuck in your own throat as you weakly tried to get your mind to take you back to the conversation. “I- excuse me. I have to- I’ll be back- excuse me.” Your chair made a loud noise as you stood from the table in a haste, pushing the door open and walking towards the woman who was still standing on the sidewalk, dumbstruck. 

Before you even knew you were outside and into the rain, you were standing not even four steps away from the woman, who was now looking at you with an incomprehensible look on her face. You couldn’t even feel the rain on you. All you could feel was her gaze and the warmth that was settling in your stomach and chest, and the same intense familiarity that was hitting you when you looked at Bucky. But it was so much stronger. 

“I-” you frowned, taking a step closer and resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. “Do I know you? Have we met?” You had to have met. You had seen her in your sleep, in your daydreams, in your sketchbook. And still, you never could have imagined how beautiful she was. 

She was silent. 

“I know this is random and that I just bum rushed you, but, did we go to school together or something?” You were embarrassed. You had never begged someone to remember you before, but this woman was different. She hadn’t said a word to you, and you didn’t even know her name, but you were enraptured. You swore you knew her. You swore you saw her eyes glaze over for a second. 

“You really don’t remember, do you?” Her voice struck something familiar in your chest, something warm and comforting. It was so familiar, so far back in your memory that it felt like home. Her accent, her inflection, the way she spoke slowly yet deliberately. It was all there in your mind, but you just couldn’t figure out how you knew it so well. “You don’t remember who I am?” 

 That had you closing your mouth. You tilted your head to the side at what could have been a hostile question, but her tone made it sad. Did you forget a high school friend? “Oh, um, I know you from somewhere, but I can’t really-” 

 “Think.” The desperation in her voice made your knees shake. If she were anyone else, you would have told her to go away, but you couldn’t. You didn’t want her to go away. But you couldn’t quite place her either, even though your own heart was screaming at you to remember. 

  “I’m sorry,” you said, a hurt expression on your face. You braved yourself to leave, taking a deep breath and giving her a weak smile that embarrassed you even further. “This was weird of me. I’ll just-” 

 She was reaching for you. Time started to run slower as her pale arm extended towards you, long fingers that you had committed to memory and to paper a thousand times outstretched. Your mouth dropped open ever so slightly as you stood in place for a second, body still until you subconsciously leaned forward, your nerves buzzing under your skin. 

  For a second, the only thing you could do was look at the point where her skin touched yours. 

  You had seen magic before. You had seen it in movies and at theme parks and when miracles happened, but nothing ever like when her skin touched yours. You swore that the warmth that your body had been feeling kicked in even stronger, surrounding you in comfort. Her hand was wrapped around your arm, gentle yet begging, firm yet wishing all the same for something you couldn’t quite see yet. You looked up and into her eyes, the eyes you had drawn and seen so many times, and then you saw it. 

   You saw it in more than flashes. They were coming in at the speed of light, but somehow you were able to catch every moment and every feeling that came along. You heard her voice as clear as day, ringing with laughter. You saw the two of you attempting to skip stones. You saw her enchanting your stones behind your back to make you think you had actually done it. You saw her mouth brushing over your cheeks, your mouth, your forehead. You could feel her hands on you, holding you, protecting you, cherishing you all the same. You could remember the way that you felt when you saw her standing in traditional witch’s clothing, being inducted into her coven as a blossomed witch. You saw everything and nothing, and you remembered it all. 

Wanda. 

A strangled sound escaped your body, so feral that it scared you, but you didn’t care. You pulled her forward, your head clashing against her chest. You could feel her shaking, like she wanted nothing more than to hold you just as tightly, but she was hesitating. “Wanda,” you called out, hugging her tighter, and then, like something in the universe stretched too far and then snapped right back into place, she was returning the embrace. 

  “I thought I had lost you forever,” she said, her voice hollow yet so full, so expressive. “I lost you, darling.” 

  The memories were all there, like all it took was a touch, but you were still coping with the knowledge. You had been murdered. Murdered by witch hunters, way back when witches were known and feared. That had to have been hundreds of years ago, you knew it. But still, your focus was on Wanda. It always would be on Wanda, forever and always. Just like hers was on you. 

“You didn’t,” you managed to say, your own voice thick with emotion as you buried your face into her neck, finally feeling the texture of the hair that you tried so hard to get right. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere ever again.” 

“I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly sobbing in your arms. You had no idea how you weren’t being interrupted in the crowded streets, but when you took a look back inside of the cafe to see the men who you so clearly remembered as Steve and Bucky, you knew it had something to do with them and their fulfilled smiles. “I wasn’t able to save you. I let you die, and I’m so sorry, darling. I’m so sorry.” 

  Her words brought you back to the present. “Wanda, no. No, no, no.” You wanted to pull away and look at her face, but the second you started to, she held onto you even tighter. You leaned your head back onto her chest. “It wasn’t your fault. There was no way any of us could have known, and no way that you could have saved me. It was beyond us.” 

  “Nothing should have ever been beyond us.” She argued softly. “I’m so sorry.” 

“But it was,” you said. “And now it’s behind us. Don’t apologize, Wanda.” You wiggled around and got free enough to look up at her teary face. “I may not have recognized you, but now that I do, I can’t believe that I ever forgot you.”

   “A new life will do that to you.” 

“Is it really a new life if I remember everything?” You said softly, the rain long gone as you stood with each other, bodies nearly molded together with how close you were. 

  She pulled away to look down at you, her eyes and overall expression tense, and then there was a look that you recognized from a long time ago. It was a look of sweet desire. You closed the cap between the two of you, pressing your lips to hers in a way that proved that you were both two lost souls who had wandered their way back to their other halves. 

“It can be whatever you want it to be, darling.” Her lips brushed your again, soft and tender and eager for more touch. “As long as you let me be in it.” 

[astererer]

Aster has a slightly updated design and some extra details available :))

info below the cut bc lmao it’s a bit lengthy xx

Voiceclaim: Harriet Wheeler (lead singer of The Sundays)

Born into a family of flying taxi cabbies, like there’s at least one person every generation who grows up to be one — family has a tradition of each child receiving a Rookidee as their first pokemon when they’re around 5 years old, part so if they too join the family line of work they have a partner they trust and know inside and out, but mostly to ensure the kids in the family are used to being around pokemon and learn to treat them with respect from a young age. The gifted Rookidee is also the offspring of the parent’s Corviknight — Aster’s family values their ties and connections to one another and having your first pokemon being connected to your parent’s first pokemon? It’s a nice sentiment.

Used to be almost painfully shy as a child — while very talkative around family and more than comfortable hanging out with pokemon, whether her own or wild ones, Aster struggled with interacting with other people to the point that she dropped out of her initial gym challenge attempt at age 12, after winning a single gym badge. Not wanting to give up entirely, she spent a few years working on her confidence and tried again when she was 14, still riddled with anxieties but more mentally prepared and armed with coping strategies for if she started to feel overwhelmed. Was known for avoiding and running away from post match interviews.

Mostly took part in the gym challenge because she wanted the cash prize that comes with each victory, but as things progressed she found she really enjoyed battling for the sake of it. Originally had absolutely zero intention of reaching the finals and facing Leon, just to get all 8 gym badges then drop out and use the money gained to go travelling. Once she got her 8th badge, however, Aster did want to see just how far she could go within the league and somehow ended up facing Leon. And won. It was close, like virtually a draw, but a victory is a victory so she got crowned champion of Galar.

(Aster at 14 years old)

Then within 2 weeks she quit. Up and left. Packed her bags and ran away to travel (which was her original plan anyway). No notice to the league itself, Aster simply went home, informed her family that she couldn’t handle being in a role she didn’t really want in the first place, and disappeared off to Kalos. Turns out there’s a lot of pressure that comes with being a reigning champion, both in a business sense and due to everyone in the region knowing who you are, making it impossible to go anywhere without being hounded by strangers, and aster was like “I cannot fucking deal with this. Bye.”

Her disappearance resulted in a bit of a media frenzy for a few weeks, and when it became clear that Aster was not returning, Leon got his position as champion reinstated. Chairman Rose worked very hard to sweep everything under the rug to minimise any scandals/tabloid gossip, and decided it would be better to release a statement that she had voluntarily relinquished the title due to poor health, rather than the truth that she had simply ran away. Aster’s family weren’t too pleased with this, while grateful Rose ensured they would no longer be hounded by journalists, they now had to deal with total strangers approaching them to ask about their sick child who was not sick at all, and was in fact busy running around a foreign country getting up to god knows what. This died down on its own after a couple of months, and Aster was for the most part, none the wiser.

Spent the next few years exploring different regions before deciding to settle in Unova, at first in Nacrene city, where she crashed on a friend’s couch for a while in exchange for doing some odd jobs for her, but moved to Nimbasa after a year — the art scene in Nacrene is cool and all, but Nimbasa has so many things to do for fun and is also just a more central location. Despite having a more permanent home, though, she’s still prone to go on adventures — just doesn’t region hop as often anymore and limits her trips to a month or two at most. Still has not returned to Galar since her abdication, though she keeps in regular contact with her family. Her older brother even goes out of his way to visit her a couple times a year.

Her personality has changed significantly over the 10 years since she left Galar. Her constant travelling forced her to interact with total strangers far more frequently than if she stayed in Galar, and caused her to open up gradually and become more comfortable with socialising. She still prefers the company of pokemon to people, but is far more relaxed and deals better with crowded environments. Developed a bit of an “I’ll try anything once” kind of attitude. Her battling style has also loosened up considerably, which garnered a considerable amount of attention for her the first time she entered the PWT in Driftveil, where she spent each match running, jumping and throwing herself around her side of the pitch between commands, and almost got hit by a few wayward attacks in the process.

Technically unemployed. Currently makes most of her income by visiting Black City every few days to battle other trainers in the tower, and helps out an artist friend back in Nacrene City as her assistant and occasional courier, should larger works need to be transported outside the city for an exhibition being held further afield. Aster prefers this lifestyle to a traditional 9-5, as it allows her to more or less do whatever she likes, whenever she likes. Also she’s never had a “normal” job before and things having one sounds incredibly boring, and what’s the point in doing anything that could be boring.

Miscellaneous info :))

Natural brunette — started dying her hair after quitting the league in the hopes it would make it harder for people to recognise her. Overtime she just started to enjoy trying different styles and colour combos out.

Loves movies. Like outside of pokemon, Films are one of her favourite things in the world. Since moving to Nimbasa City, Aster has been building up a collection of blu rays and dvds, to the point that she has entire shelves full of them, floor to ceiling. Any genre is good in her eyes, she’ll watch anything whether it’s a corny romcom or a surrealist horror. Has also started investing in better sound systems and a projector, and is currently in the process of turning her apartment’s living room into a home cinema sort of deal.

While she adores cat-like pokemon of all varieties, she just cannot get behind Alolan and Kantonian Meowths and Persians. She jokes that they’re supporters of classism while her Perrserker bestie is the people’s cat. There really isn’t a deep reason for her dislike other than Persians aren’t Perrserkers and neither they nor their pre-evolutions are as fluffy or scruffy as the Galarian equivalents. It’s a personal bias.

Her team only has 3 permanent members; Mango, Muffin and Goji. The other 3 pokemon are switched out with a different combination every other week, so that Aster can try out different battling strategies and also just so she can spend time with all her creatures. They all have nicknames.

Dislikes social media but that doesn’t mean she never uses it — usually it’s just to announce that she’ll be participating in an upcoming tournament then radio silence for months. She likes to keep her private life private when it comes to the online world.

Maternal grandpa was a painter, and he passed an interest in the arts down to her mother, who passed it on to her. While neither Aster nor her mother are artists in their own rights, a lot of Aster’s childhood memories involve being taken to galleries and exhibitions. Both have decent knowledge of art history and some very Strong Opinions about specific artists and movements. Their weekly phone calls are almost always lengthy discussions about a specific painting, a film one of them saw recently, music, or what kind of clothes are currently making a comeback in the trend cycle.

Assisting her friend in Nacrene City has encouraged Aster to try creating her own works, though she’s yet to take the actual plunge. She doesn’t have the space in her Nimbasa apartment for a studio, nor has she purchased any of the materials she thinks she needs. One day she’ll take some ideas from her sketchbook to canvas. One day.

[joleneghoul]

Hello!! For that ask game thing that you recently reblogged, I would love to hear your opinions on everyone's dear friend Booster Gold! :)

YAY yes i can do Booster of course. I've loved Booster for over 7 years now I'm sure I have a few things to say hehe. This ones also long so here we go.

– Overall opinion of them I think Booster is a genuinely amazing character who just happens to be placed in the hands of incompetent unsure writers all the time. But for the sake of things I'm not going to rant about writers right now but know a lot of my opinions and love for Booster comes from accidental themes thrown in by writers or stuff that can be taken and made better. A lot of my love for Booster also comes from the situation I was in when I first started reading his comics (around after I read Ted's BB comics bc I was a Ted fan first and the very same goes for Ted too) so i'm very aware a lot of my perceptions are based in that. I believe that Booster's backstory is really interesting and hits hard. Booster gold volume 1 can easily be read as someone who is closeted trying to find a place in a world where they do not fit in (Now please take in account that this is not the intention of the writing from the author and was a total accident writing wise). I wish more respect would be put into his backstory especially currently I think in the right hands it can be transformed into something really meaningful...but anyways.

– Gender/sexuality headcanons I am a Trans Nonbinary Gay Booster believer. I think booster goes by any pronouns but especially he/him and she/her. I also believe he knew this when he lived in the 25th century way before he went back in time, but had to deal with being in the closet AFTER time traveling, not before.

– Favorite moment in canon SHEESH…um…A LOT OF THINGS are my favorite moment. for the sake of everyone I wont go through every comic he's in and post my favorite moment but in booster gold volume 1 I love every scene where it touches on that "outsider" aspect of his character and his struggle with it.

Another favorite (ICONIC) moment I love is the reveal that he is Supernova and FAKED his death in 52 #37 to fool Mr Mind/Skeets. It is genuinely such a good moment in my opinion and shows that he's actually very cunning and capable and also sets the stage for what his strengths are as a time master. It takes the whole idea that "lies and deception" don't have to be negative but can be a useful tool in heroism (in a way directly challenging Boosters past and his perceptions of himself because of that past).

Oh I also love his arc in extreme justice before he wishes his disability away. – Favorite moment in a fanwork It is so difficult to decide this FOR ME because I care so much about a lot of my mutuals interpretations of Booster to pick one! I really enjoy seeing how other people perceive Booster as a serious genuine character. Like In @slettlune's works (sorry for at-ing you again lol), or @queenretcon's art or @bigturtl or @starringbeetle or nowadays @mattdcblog or my bf's old art @clickbaitcowboy. all of them have inspired and shaped the way I see Booster so I don't think I can pick just one favorite moment or piece.

– Favorite line, in canon or otherwise ANY line from volume 1 where Booster doesn't understand phrases or sayings is my favorite.

– Characters I love seeing them interact with Um..well I'd be a liar if I didn't say Ted Kord- but there is a lot of newer stuff in comics that I feel falls flat with them and I think that comes from making them one note outside of each other and that both of them BENEFIT from having lives outside of each other in canon.

NOW...FIRE...is one of my FAVORITE Booster friendships! I need to see more of them I feel like too often its brushed aside that Fire was one of Boosters besties too! Or even just the fact Booster in the 80s-90s had a lot of friends who were women without being romantic with them which is honestly unique and cool. NOW.. I understand narrative wise (post toras death and everything that was done wrong to Bea) why they all fall out of being friends. I just miss it.

– Last thing before sleeping headcanons & Sleeping habits headcanons

I honestly don't have any strong opinions about this at all other than I think that Booster would be the type of person to need white noise or something to sleep. Uhhh I think he would take up the whole bed no matter what though not even just because he's 6'5 but because he sleeps like a star fish.

– First thing after waking up headcanons Unfortunately he is the only morning person in existence I think.

– Favorite locations headcanon

AGAIN...he's a time traveler...he's a huge cowboy fan so I'm sure for that reason he loves being in the wild west era even though in reality it sucked but this is comics ig.

Other than that I think he loves going to the beach, not just like the ocean front but just like towns near the beach too, ocean wind...beach vibes, maybe he should try surfing.

[ezradogteeth]

Hey did you smoke weed while in italy? Also is it easier to learn to draw with a pencil or with like an ipad? /serious btw 💀🪦 i drew kinda last year and theyre all cute (im 20 btw) but i just was like eh its too late to learn so i stopped 💀 but i think thats a stupid thought at any age. So im gonna draw again now :3 any tips on like how to motivate urself with drawing? I might make a comic lol. I just also have adhd so its hard and this is long omh. But im a bug fan of ur work, and i would love any advice!

1. yes i did smoke in italy but i never bought it bc i didnt know how so my friends just smoked me up god bless

2. both digital and traditional art have their advantages and disadvantages. its amazing being able to infinitely rework your drawing digitally, and have any colors and textures u want, but it can also be a hinderance, esp when ur still learning, cuz its hard not to get caught up in perfection and editing in digital art. i think a mix of both is best!! the limitations of traditional art are actually v helpful in growing as an artist, having to be intentional and precise and work within the limits of a page etc.

3. as for motivation, i find it best to take things super small! just doodle in your notebook, keep things low pressure. draw what u wanna draw! ive drawn myself and my sona in the same pose with the same pen like 10000 times. bc i like it. and once u are in the flow of drawing its easier to work on more complex pieces. so dont jump right into a huge project or it can be overwhelming. just get into the habit of drawing often by not worrying about it being perfect (this one is huge for me) and just trying something small and fun to get into the groove. and keep ur goals in mind, remember why u want to learn it in the first place :)