#the fact that Making It as an artist on the internet is almost completely about marketing always makes me a little insane

[bandsanitizer]

the way that it doesn’t just make me sad but angry that idols are expected to apologize not just for disappointing fans and their members but for harming them by so much as even having a dating rumor bc is it that bad they found love? or something that could become that? is it that bad for the people you supposedly love and support to be happy? yes I know the industry basically runs on the parasocial relationships but isn’t it high time to recognize that someone else’s happiness is not an attempt to ruin yours? that even if it is painful or difficult for you, that is not the responsibility of the idol. they should not need to apologize for their own happiness and events within their personal life which half the time come out as leaks (read: invasions of their privacy) rather than on their own time. and to go as far as to say it implies they don’t deserve their job or should leave their group… artists experiencing things in life? the emotions of affection and infatuation and love and endearment and everything else that comes with a romantic relationship? that’s only going to give them the capacity to create greater and more enriched art. i’m not saying they’re in a relationship to do (and I certainly hope not) but if you need any reason at all to refrain from causing these idols harm in the way you claim their happiness has so deeply harmed and disappointed you, then take it as them living. that life needs art and art needs life.

[knxfesck]

Something I'm always wondering about is the phenomenon of internet conditions that bring certain artists to fame/influence/household name level among niche groups that I feel like no longer exists since platfirms like tiktok have become popular. There's a whole list of mediocre fanartists that are STILL immediately recognisable to a crazy amount of people on no merit other than being Pinterest Gods or Youtube Posters. And its gets them places too!! (i.e. vivziepop and the officialification of her half assed oc's). We live in a wild society huh

[comicaurora]

You mentioned in a previous ask about Arcane that wanting to do something better can be a great motivator, but recently I've seen a lot of discussion about fanworks created out of "spite" like Spiderman Lotus or that Transformers fan film. Do you think these come from different feelings, leading to their end result, or that the motivation just needs to be handled carefully?

Ah, I see the confusion. When you have ideas for what a story could do, and then the story goes in a different direction and bypasses what you thought it would do, that can be an incredibly useful motivator for using that unused inspiration for telling your own story. Taking someone else's completed artwork and saying "move over, idiot, I'll show you how it's done" is a recipe for hubristic self-immolation.

Setting out to "fix" someone's work has to be approached very carefully. Artistic criticism is a complicated skill, but it isn't treated that way. Especially in the age of the internet, several wildly different things have been conflated under "criticism", and I think that's why spite-motivated "fixes" almost always end up tripping on their shoelaces and falling flat.

Art critique - "fixing" someone's work - is about figuring out how to make the art the most effective version of itself. Determine what it's going for, and make suggestions for how the artist could improve the execution of that goal. Clarify a confusing moment, change the score a little to be more emotionally impactful, break up the pacing with moments to breathe, tighten up the pacing to maintain the frantic vibes.

However, the broad perception of what art critique is has been bundled together with several other forms of criticism, including snarky reviews (a judgment of quality rendered after a work is completed and aimed at prospective audiences so they don't end up wasting their money), general knee-jerk mockery (it is easy and fun to score points off of other people's sincerity via a little casual bullying), critical analysis (taking apart how a story works to learn from it, a useful approach for other artists trying to improve their own skills) and, of course, fanfiction.

Ahh, fanfiction! If you don't like a story, you can just take the characters, setting, premise, worlbuilding, and the general shape of the plot - ignoring the fact that at this point you've borrowed about 80% of the work that went into building the original story already - and then you can just make the characters do what you wanted instead. If you think Spider-Man would be better if everyone was miserable and grieving a dead buddy the whole time, you can do that! Two hours of misery for everyone!

This approach is ostensibly trying to accomplish what art critique does - to make a better version of the story. But in practice, it's almost never interested in interrogating what the story was actually going for. In fact, it's actively scornful of what the story was going for. It doesn't take it apart to see what did work, it just says "I didn't like that and I could do better" and produces something trying not to be like the original it disliked.

I kind of think of it like this. If you ate a meal and you were like "there's not enough salt in this," you would not produce a better meal by focusing exclusively on loading it down with all the salt you could find, even if you were starting with all the same ingredients. Do you understand how they were put together to begin with? How the meat was brined, how the vegetables were cooked, what seasonings went where? Do you think all it needed to make it work was salt?

So you get fanworks that do indeed focus on the part that the fanartist thought was missing. You get Spider-Man Is A Sad Jerk For Two Hours. It accomplished what the fanartist wanted, but it fails in its true goal of being Like The Original But Better, because it never actually made the effort to understand what made the original tick. Why do people like Spider-Man in his other movies? Well, there's lots of reasons that work for different audiences - he's funny, he's good-hearted, he's graceful and well-choreographed, his fight scenes are fluid and exciting, his dynamic with the people of New York is lively and comedic, he's hapless and hurting but he always tries his best, he gets knocked down but he always gets back up-- there are many reasons to like these stories. But if all you can focus on is what you wanted them to add, you'll have a lot of trouble parsing out what functional elements you'll need to carry over into your fanfiction to not lose the core of what made it actually mostly work.

If all you focus on is accentuating the bits you wanted them to do without recognizing the parts that were working fine, you end up with a heaping plate of salt.

✨ as the ask states, this post is very specifically about spite-motivated "I can do it better than the writers" fanworks and not fanfiction in general ✨

[alcrego]

Digital walls, but walls

I encourage you to have a seat and read this little 'essay' I wrote back in 2014 if you really want to understand what I'm doing today. I would be really grateful and I'm sure you'll have a much better understanding of my whole work.

Digital walls, but walls

On the way to space and public art | came across the digital walls. They can be "painted" but they also have the function of limiting, of delimiting, of separating...

A change of paradigm has been happening for some years now with the arrival of the internet, which has completely changed some aspects and concepts that have to do with the world of art and more specifically with urban art or public art. From the beginning, this type of art has been carried out in public places with the aim of being observed by anyone on the street and thus making it free, accessible and free from any premise or institution when it is created. (not considering the "warlike coexistence” with the advertising).

The appearance of the Internet has changed it. A vast majority of the art is seen online on a screen, what questions that the street is the natural canvas of this art discipline. While it is for the one who creates the piece, it is almost never for the one who looks at it. Public spaces are no longer just physical, in the same way that the plastic arts are no longer just plastic.

Due to the access to technology and its cheapness, nowadays it is inconceivable to think of art without considering the whole digital sphere, whether as a tool, a method of creation or of dissemination. But at the same time, all these centuries of art history condition the understanding of art, sometimes acting as a burden in terms of understanding what art is.

The dragging of already preconceived ideas and the weight of the genetic inheritance makes us repeat concepts about what art is and was. In the face of such a rapid change of paradigm, it seems that we find it difficult to understand that this whole new digital world is still the world. Both virtual and augmented reality are also reality, but the fact that it is appreciated through a screen sometimes causes it not to be considered as something artistic or even real. Thinking that way we could say that looking at a piece of art on the Internet does not have its complete experience, since we are not seeing it in the place for which it was devised, and neither are we perceiving it in a direct way, but with a screen as an intermediary. But at the same time, I think about all the content that we consume today with these devices - movies, series, photographs, news, and even art, current and classic - and not because of that we think or say that they are unreal.

At this point, where the analog space merges with the digital space, a new artistic expression is born that is entirely digital, where the final piece is born and ends up in the digital realm. Conceived through digital tools and deposited in the public digital space. These pieces of art suggest skipping the step of "existing" first in the ‘real reality’ to reach directly the virtual reality, which is also reality, and once from there, to have an impact on the analog reality.

It would also be curious to reflect on the parallelism between urban art and digital art, since, being in public places, both are susceptible to being stolen, altered or appropriated by other people for different purposes. And also, on the idea of anonymity, always used by urban artists to be able to work in the street without risk of infringement, and now also used in the digital environment. Either by often using copyrighted content that we find on the web (street 2.0) for an artistic purpose or by the "erosion of sharing” in which at some point someone does not credit the work, but it is still shared. In this case there should be a new word to define those people that everybody knows, but nobody knows who they are. “Famonimous" characters or the concept of "famonimity"; people or artists who are known precisely because they are anonymous.

Since the beginnings of urban art, the idea was to use public space to express oneself freely, but we must bear in mind that public space is nothing more than the remainder of the space divided by the private, the "leftovers" after the developers pass, the worthless places left open to the common people by institutions, etc., etc..... With the change of social, technological and artistic paradigm, urban art has been normalized and is now used as a method of decoration of places in poor condition, as a complement to a public road or simply as a means of open artistic expression as it has always been. Because if the initial objective was to make art accessible, direct and open to everyone, that idea has moved to the internet and, in some ways, the radical idea of urban art would no longer have that sense.

Therefore, if we understand urban or public art as a type of art accessible to everyone, free of charge and without any kind of condition, | believe that digital art fulfils this role today, since it inhabits all public places, whether analog or digital. Urban art needs this digital sphere to be able to expand and be visible. Because nowadays most urban art is seen through screens, not in the place where the piece has been created, which makes all these works more accessible to everyone at any time. And so, the ’paradox of the graffiti artist’ is born, the one who expresses his freedom in the walls that imprison him. These walls generate private spaces and what is outside them is considered public space by the mere fact of being spaces where people pass through. But it does not mean that this public space is open to intervention. Every public space is under the supervision of a privative entity, whether it is a municipality, a company or simply, the property of an individual. Public space does not exist, neither in the ‘real reality’, nor in the virtual one. It is always subject to something superior that manages it.

Within this dilemma, augmented reality becomes another alternative to the path of public art. It gives the possibility of creating art in public spaces, only seen on digital devices, and using the ‘real reality’ as the piece’s canvas. Until recently, photography and/or video were methods of capturing reality. Now, with this change of prism, these disciplines moved from being the purpose itself, to becoming raw material for the creation of other new artistic expressions. In this direction, | want to focus on the gif format. This format is strictly digital, so it gives us the option to edit, to add movement to pieces that, before, condemned to live still. We can spread in on the Internet and make it accessible to everyone at any time. When adding augmented reality, the two concepts intertwine, urban/public art and digital art, what gives rise to new artistic expressions that call into question deep rooted concepts such as museum, art and reality.

There are already many centuries researching, testing and creating the same type of art, whether sculpture, painting.... Except for the birth of new "isms" within these disciplines, it gives the impression that they are exhausted. At this point it would be convenient to think about the idea of unique work, copy, forgery, recreation... Thinking about the evolution of art we must consider that all new progress is born of the technological options that occur in each era. Nowadays, the difference is that progress happens every day, very fast, and it seems that it is difficult (or unwilling) to understand this change because of the speed of it. This cultural and genetic heritage blurs our vision and sometimes prevents us from conceiving new artistic expressions as such, since there are no previous references to support them.

But, at the end of the day, every new artistic expression, in its beginnings, was not art. "Science develops ideas that come from art that is inspired by science.” The world of classical art enjoys an aura of untouchable deity because when we are born it has always been there, but we cannot forget to think for a moment with perspective that all this classical art was created mainly by the entities of power of each era: kings, church, political powers...

This is why today (without underestimating the technique and the work of the artists) these types of classical art enjoy an invulnerability as, in the end, it was created by and for the power itself.

Then, this type of art collides with the urban and/or public art, along with digital art. In the public and digital space those who decide what is "art" are the people.

I am sure that the first Cro-Magnon who used a tuft of horse hairs instead of his own hands to paint was seen as an art/magic/belief apath.

Now we live in a new paradigm shift, but in this case it is not local or national, it is global and immediate.

A. L. Crego, 2014.

[firelightmlpoc]

Hey, just wanted to say good on you for standing up against the completely batshit accusations that have been thrown around the fandom lately. I cannot fathom how anyone believed those screenshots for even a second. I doubt you’ll get an answer, since the harassers are stuck in an echo chamber of validating their actions and will likely just stick their heads in the sand and pretend they can’t hear you. It sucks ass, but seeing that there are at least some people who will publicly question this bullshit is refreshing.

Of course. There’s a reason ‘innocent until proven guilty’ is something that’s supposed to be a baseline for an accusation of actions that have caused harm. After all, if someone makes a false accusation that then is treated as true, then another innocent person gets harmed, & then the waters get muddied for any other accusations thereafter.

After all, if someone lied about harm done & then makes another accusation, who’s to say that accusation isn’t just another lie? Something-something, ‘boy who cried wolf’. Then it also makes any other accusations in the nearby vicinity seem lest trustworthy because people don’t want to be wrong again.

Some people solely jumped on this hate-train specifically because it was against Pansear Doodles, & wouldn’t have interacted with this accusation at all if it didn’t center around someone they didn’t already dislike.

You want proof? Easy.

Look at the accounts saying ‘I always knew that Pansear was bad! Good to get proven right…’ and then look at their accounts. Almost always, they’ve been bashing Pansear (and other artists who do shipping of Slugcats & other similar art) because they just didn’t like the topic. And, instead of just acknowledging that they don’t like that content & moving on, they internalize that dislike & then try to find a reason to attach said dislike to the author. Then, they look for anything the author did wrong (be it true or not) & suddenly cry out:

‘I was right all along for hating this person!!!’

There’s an account that replied to my earlier post which REALLY clearly shows this in action.

@hourglass-meadow .

This reply is what they said.

An ask they responded to directly about Pansear. (Long-winded, yadayada.)

Their response:

And their first response to seeing Pansear gone.

Now, you know how many posts they made about Pansear potentially being a problem? None, except for the ArtiHunter comic, which has nothing actually ’problematic’ within. What about an ‘I hope the victim can find peace…’? Nonexistent.

These people don’t care if these allegations are true or not.

They don’t care who else gets hurt in this mess, as long as it isn’t someone in their circle.

They just want to see a ‘bad guy’ who is someone they don’t like get punished.

They want to claim their righteousness for all the world to see, as they cast judgement; a lynching in the court of public opinion.

And all of this targeting, IF this is fake, is more-or-less because people didn’t like seeing Pansear & others making /shipping/ art.

Because they saw someone else making something that THEY deemed ‘weird.’

There’s something to be said about the current political climate here, be it the Puritanical aspect of eliminating anything ’other’, ‘weird’, or ‘disgusting’ from sight no matter how innocuous/harmless it is;

the ‘Guilty until Proven Innocent’ mindset going around that makes actual victims more liable to not out their abuser out of concern for what will happen to their abuser (As, statistically speaking, abusers tend to be someone close to the abused, before abuse starts.)

Or even just the fact that people are simply emboldened to be as shitty as possible while they believe they’re anonymous online, because they’re of the mindset that they’re immune to consequences because they aren’t being directly known by these internet people in-person.

Don’t believe me? Look at every account celebrating Pansear’s self-eviction from the Rainworld community. Look at their actions & words from before this accusation. And then check what I said again. Cross reference this shit. See that the majority don’t care if there was a victim, much less if the potential victim is ok now or not; they just wanted someone they didn’t like, for one arbitrary reason or another, gone.

Cruelty was the point of many people’s actions against Pansear here, & by jove did they get what they wanted.

Remember folks! Remember this well:

No matter how much you align with leopards-that-eat-people’s-faces, the leopards won’t think twice about your face being next on their dinner plate.

That’s enough words from me for the time being, however.

[storiesabouteli]

Do The Damage. // Noel Gallagher X f!Reader (Smut)

prompt: Noel falling for a younger singer who isn’t famous yet and is just starting out, so he guides her like a tutor to boost her career and help her gain more attention. But would this bond remain purely professional? (Involves smut, with the potential to escalate over time and features an age gap.)

words: 3,5k.

Noel felt fulfilled, both physically and emotionally; he didn’t need anything more to complete his sense of satisfaction. Even so, during the band's final chapter, a mix of circumstances led him to start considering new possibilities. Unable to leave music behind entirely, he set up a studio and took on the more bureaucratic aspects of supporting future artists. It was his way of giving back to an industry that had given him so much.

He didn’t know much about the artist he’d suddenly become interested in—just that you were a young woman with an undeniable presence. Noel first heard your voice on his way to his mom. It struck a chord deep within him, leaving him sitting in the car even after he arrived, staring out the window and absorbing every word you sang like drops of water in the desert. It was strange, but it was exactly what he needed. Minutes later, he was kicked out of the Uber.

Your voice carried raw potential, unpolished but undeniably captivating—not bad, just unmistakably new. The lyrics were tender and nostalgic, stirring emotions that felt both unfamiliar and deeply rooted. Noel found your work mature in a way he hadn’t been when he first started making music. It was solid, needing no comedic relief or intrusive embellishments to make itself heard.

He couldn’t picture your face, your hair, or even your style, but your voice lingered in his mind. The breaths, the pauses—at times resembling soft, almost failed sighs—were profoundly compelling.

When the song ended, he stared at the radio display, waiting for your name to be announced. Quickly, he grabbed a notebook, scribbling it down before it could slip from his memory.

During dinner with his mother, he mentioned you in passing, his fingers running absentmindedly through his hair. She caught the subtle shift in his tone—how you had left an impression on him.

"Just a girl, huh? How many times have you listened to her songs, Noely?" she teased.

He was typically poetic in his descriptions, even when veiling them in a layer of skepticism, but this time he struggled to downplay it. He swore he had been concise, though he doubted he’d succeeded.

As the visit neared its end, you were all he could think about. He needed to share your music with someone else.

"Not many," he admitted truthfully, though his tone betrayed him.

Peggy chuckled knowingly. "I’ll give her a try," she said, confident. After all, her son’s recommendations rarely missed the mark.

…

Finding you on the internet wasn’t easy. Noel had written down the wrong last name, which delayed his search longer than he’d anticipated. You had no professional recordings, and he later discovered that the radio segment he’d heard was an exclusive showcase for new artists. All he managed to find were amateur videos of you performing at pubs on YouTube, with poor audio quality that didn’t do your voice justice. Still, he played them on repeat over the next few days.

The videos with better resolution became his favorites, though Noel feared it might have more to do with your angelic face than he wanted to admit. He avoided acknowledging the fact that you were much younger than him—far more than he was comfortable quantifying. But in trying to ignore it, the thought seemed to take up permanent residence in his mind. Any guilt he felt over this, he brushed aside, though it lingered in the background.

When Noel closed his eyes at night, he often conjured the image of you from one particular video: wearing a light, summer wine dress with straps that slipped slightly off your shoulders. In his dreams—purely idealistic, he told himself—he imagined gently adjusting the strap with his finger, smoothing your hair as your calm gaze met his. Your head tilted into his touch, resting affectionately in his palm, and he left a soft kiss on your temple as your lashes fluttered. Not that he truly believed he’d ever have that kind of effect on you. The thought alone, however, left him sighing, strangely at peace.

It was indescribable how much your voice consumed his thoughts. He found himself humming snippets of your lyrics while showering, cooking, and winding down after long days. By the time he called his mom the next weekend, she already knew what to expect.

…

You were delicate, and the words flowed effortlessly from your lips. The cameras, the analog quality, and the audio from your YouTube recordings couldn’t compare to the experience of seeing you live. The room was small, filled with a modest crowd—mostly people your age, though a few older ones lingered with curious, skeptical expressions. It was an intimate and pleasant atmosphere.

Noel stayed at a comfortable distance, neither too close to draw attention nor too far to miss the details. He wore a dark collared jacket, paired with jeans, and kept his sunglasses on, even in the dim lighting, to avoid being recognized. Occasionally, he slid them down his nose for a clearer look, wanting to see you without the darkened lenses.

You held the microphone with care, almost as if it were weightless, weaving the cord between your fingers as you took small, measured steps across the tiny makeshift stage. Most of the audience was distracted, caught up in their conversations, but a fair few paused to watch and listen. Occasionally, your voice wavered, and Noel caught the slight furrow in your brow when it happened, a flicker of disappointment crossing your features. But to him, it only made you more endearing.

You wore white tights and a white dress with a Peter Pan collar—an outfit Noel thought suited you perfectly. As he watched, he tugged on the edge of his shirt beneath his jacket, mirroring the way you nervously fidgeted with the fabric of your dress. He smiled to himself, hoping that, somehow, you could feel his silent encouragement. You were doing beautifully.

The performance ended quietly, your soft “thank you” followed by a beat of silence before Noel started clapping. The applause swelled as others joined in. You seemed surprised, hesitating to meet the eyes in the room, but your shy smile gave away your happiness. Noel felt a wave of satisfaction watching you soak in the moment.

Later, with a glass in your hand, you stood chatting with the guitarist. Noel, lingering nearby, imagined himself in the guitarist’s place, strumming alongside you in the dim, hushed venue, where whispered conversations blended into the warm atmosphere. When the guitarist gestured toward him, you turned, and Noel felt a jolt of nerves. His palms began to sweat, and he shoved his hands into his pockets to hide it.

Up close, you were even more captivating. Your posture wasn’t perfectly straight, and your gait had a slight unevenness he found charming. He avoided smiling too widely, afraid it might give away how thoroughly you had enchanted him.

“I enjoyed your performance,” he said, his voice steady despite the flush creeping up his neck. “You sing really well, and your original lyrics are great. You’re very talented.”

The compliment came out smoothly, the product of quiet rehearsals in his mind. But when you bit your lip and offered a shy smile, he felt heat rise to his face, knowing he was probably redder than he’d like to admit.

Your fingers fluttered to the edge of your dress, an unconscious gesture Noel found entirely too adorable. He wanted to take your hand, to offer something to distract you from the nervous thoughts he could see running through your mind. Instead, he waited as you stammered out a soft “thank you,” the sincerity in your voice unmistakable.

When he offered to buy you a drink, he noticed your hesitation but also your curiosity. Maybe it was something about him—the warmth in his tone or the subtle familiarity he carried. Whatever it was, you accepted, and as you joined him, Noel couldn’t help but feel hopeful.

"I don’t think anyone has ever come to see me sing so well-dressed," you said, your eyes sparkling. Noel smiled softly, sensing that in a few hours, you might warm up to him.

Your gaze lingered on his outfit, noting details you didn’t often encounter. The shirt was impeccably tailored, the collar subtly unique, and the jacket—definitely genuine leather—was unlike anything you’d seen around here. You weren’t an expert in such things, but the quality was unmistakable.

Noticing how you wrapped your hands together for warmth, Noel didn’t hesitate. He slipped off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, his fingers brushing against your icy skin. A pang of guilt hit him for not realizing sooner. You didn’t resist, your small nod of thanks revealing how much you needed it.

"Don’t you think you deserve it?" he said, without considering how flirtatious it might sound. The second the words left his mouth, he realized his tone, but before he could apologize, you gave a soft laugh, shaking your head.

You looked at him thoughtfully, a faint smile forming. "I think it’s nice," you said, "to think that someone would dress up to see me here. To imagine you picking out an outfit, anticipating it throughout the day, thinking about what’s most suitable or comfortable... It’s kind."

Your words had a natural grace, effortless and genuine. Noel felt a pang of self-awareness—most of his words were calculated, spoken with the intent to impress. But with you, it all felt unforced.

You sighed contentedly, nestling into the warmth of his jacket, your hands disappearing into the oversized sleeves. Noel felt a swell of affection as he watched your animated gestures while you spoke, completely unaware of how your knees had brushed against his and stayed there.

“Well, if it helps," he said, his voice deepening in a rhythm of soft pauses, "I heard you on the radio the other day... and I wanted to see you in person."

You nodded, brushing off the compliment—not because it displeased you but because you didn’t know how to handle it. "I like your accent," you said, your tone light and teasing. "It makes you sound older than you are."

Your shoulders brushed as you shifted restlessly, the contact unintentional but comfortable. For a moment, the two of you sat in quiet, the ambient noise of clinking glasses and murmured conversations framing your shared breath.

Noel eventually broke the silence, explaining the record label project he had in mind. His words flowed, outlining the steps it would take for you to pursue something more professional. You listened intently at first, but at some point, your focus drifted to him—the slight silver streak in his dark hair, the furrowed concentration in his thick brow, the perfectly shaped mouth, and the shadow of stubble framing his face.

His gestures were minimal compared to yours, but his hands—large yet precise—drew your attention. They felt timeless, like something out of an old film, delicate but grounded.

“I’m listening,” you said at last, “but I wouldn’t have the money for it. I can’t even afford a guitar. I play in pubs because they let me use their instruments. It doesn’t pay well—sometimes it’s just beer and food.”

There was no bitterness in your voice, just a quiet acceptance of the limitations around you. Your sincerity struck him, the kind of purity that came from believing the music was meant for you.

Someone bumped into your chair, jolting you forward slightly, but Noel steadied it instinctively. The sudden closeness let him take in every detail—the precise shade of your eyes, the soft scent of your hair.

To you, his blue eyes were striking and the lines at their corners adding a kind of rugged warmth…

"That’s exactly my point," he said softly. "You get paid, and I help you get heard. You deserve to be recognized for your work."

…

"Did you set up the record label for the girl?" Gem's tone carried a teasing edge, though Noel knew it was rooted in some truth.

"It’s not like that," Noel replied, his voice steady but undeniably warm. "She’s really good. You’ll meet her." The anticipation slipped through his words—unintended but undeniable. In just a few months, you’d be right in the middle of this whirlwind with him.

"And does she know what’s going on in your head?" Gem pressed. "Like, the reason for your soft tone and that silly grin when you mention her name? I might be wrong, but it doesn’t sound like you’re just thinking of her as a musician, Noel."

Noel shook his head, even though Gem couldn’t see him. "It’s nothing. I just want to help her with this." His words came out too quickly, like he was convincing himself. "Besides, I’m not at that stage; we don’t fit in the same place." Saying it aloud felt heavier than he expected.

"Don’t fit?" Gem’s laugh was low and knowing. "Mate, you’re not fooling anyone. You think I don’t know you? I know that tone—you’ve got her in your head. I’m just saying, be careful. If you don’t handle this right—"

"I know," Noel cut him off, his voice sharper.

The conversation shifted after that, as if the topic had been laid to rest. But Gem’s parting words lingered in Noel’s mind long after the call ended.

"Noel, I’m sure this will hurt you as much as it’d hurt her. You don’t deal well with this type of emotion. Your feelings will get in the way."

It stung because it might be true. But as Noel sat there, staring at the half-written lyrics scattered on the table, he found himself wondering if it would really be so bad—spending all that time with you, seeing where this road might lead. Even if it wasn’t the most practical idea, even if it felt reckless.

Could it really be so wrong to let himself hope?

…

You learned who he was and thought it might be a scam, but a simple Google search left you stunned. You were familiar with the band, though not with his exact current appearance. It certainly wasn’t like in the “Wonderwall” video anymore, but his more recent style—a dad vibe with a not-much-older kid—was charming in its own way. Your friends were happy for you, even if they were as incredulous as you.

You knew his songs and compositions, maybe not all of them, and you weren’t fully aware of how big he had been in the ’90s. Still, he was clearly someone famous who, by all logic, shouldn’t have been paying much attention to you. He had been handsome when he was young, and he was still attractive.

"He doesn’t exactly have a reputation for being nice to people. Are you sure it’s the same person?" Your roommate raised an eyebrow at you, her skepticism evident. You had watched a few interviews of his and noticed the same thing she mentioned— as well as his red-stone ring on his rough hand, the way his tongue darted across his lips. He was certainly not shy.

"I’m sure it’s him, and it seems like he’s only like that with the press. He wasn’t arrogant at all with me," you replied, swallowing hard. You wondered if you were an exception to his rule, but that thought felt too hopeful and premature.

"One night with him and you’re already defending this old man?" she teased, laughing as she grabbed her things and headed for the door. You shook your head, trying to convince both her and yourself. This was a losing game.

"Good luck, babe. You deserve to have your music recorded professionally," she added before disappearing into the street.

You still had your doubts—it all seemed too much. Your laptop sat open beside you, paused on a podcast of him. He was in profile, his skin smooth but showing the marks of time in a way that only added to him. He occasionally ran his fingers through his hair between breaths, and the open buttons of his shirt revealed just enough of his chest hair to be distracting. His voice was captivating, and his heavy accent made you want to stay there. Slowly, his presence wrapped around you like a blanket as you burrowed further under your own covers.

Your vision was blurry, yet sharp enough—what mattered was the certainty that you could recall everything, every detail. You could hear his breathing, close enough to feel its rhythm. His gaze, usually opaque, gained a quiet brightness as it trailed over your body, seated right in front of him.

You were wearing a button-up shirt in a deep ocean blue, a perfect match for the color of his eyes. You had seen the very same shirt on him hours earlier, in some old photoshoot. Now it was on you. It barely reached your knees, and the sleeves were so long they hid your hands entirely. You sat on the edge of the marble counter, its cold surface doing little to mask the fact that he was the one making you shiver.

Your knee brushed against his hip, and though he didn’t smile, his eyes held a calm warmth that made you feel at ease. His broad fingers brushed your wrist, the heat of his touch making your breath hitch slightly. You couldn’t explain why, but you felt utterly vulnerable to him.

His movements were delicate, fleeting, much like the night at the pub. He reached for the oversized sleeves of the shirt and carefully rolled them up, his motions deliberate, taking his time, then revealing your hands at last. He took one of them in his, lifting it to his lips.

He kissed your palm more than once, and the contrast of his growing stubble—rough and scratchy—and his soft lips made your breath catch again. Your mouth parted at the sensation, then your shoulders relaxed in a way that seemed to please him. It was only then, as if your ease was his permission, that he smiled.

He didn't say anything, but it didn't seem necessary. His fingertips touched your knee, gradually adding pressure. The rough calluses made you spread your legs before you needed to be told to. His touch moved up, bringing heat to your entire body, until they were invisible beneath your shirt.

“Mr. Gallagher," you sighed, the words slipping out in vain—you didn’t even know what you wanted. Your hand rested gently on his wrist, drawing an affectionate line there as your fingers idly played with the coarse hairs on his arm.

His eyes, fixed intently on you, seemed to promise he could take care of you, and yours, slowly but surely, found amusement in wandering across the expanse of his neck or the hair of his chest.

His scent was getting more immersive, and without rushing, his fingers were diving into you. You weren't stupid, you were aware of how wet you were, and Noel knew exactly what to expect. It didn't take much, it wasn't difficult, his fingers were thick and you didn't hesitate to swallow them. The abrupt and painful closing of your legs that came from the pleasure was avoided and that made everything more enjoyable.

He groaned muffledly, between his teeth, just watching you sigh heavily as you were struggling to keep yourself spread for him. He made you endure everything until the edge of the ring touched your skin, he held it there, watching your eyes water, until your legs trembled as he slowly moved his fingers and then removed them just so he could do that whole scene again.

You were so desperate that his fingers made that line of slime as they pulled out of you. He licked his lips at that, and without seeing where he was touching, you just felt the wet accumulation on your clit as he caressed you in light circles. It felt good, and made you think that boys your age weren't like that.

He continued, his face very close to yours and his scent making you dizzy. He added more pressure, his movements were continuous and unhurried, you couldn't help but let tears escape. You wanted to be good for him, you wanted to see him see that you knew how to behave. But, your body ached.

Your indignation was clear, yet he pulled his fingers away, which were as damp as before. You needed him. He brought the tips to his lips, the blue orbs still on you, who were sweaty and couldn't breathe like a normal human being, and licked them. His throat rose, his tongue made an approving noise, and before you could grab his wrist in protest, everything was getting blurrier.

You were sore, your legs weak, and your thighs damp. His voice still lingered in the background, softened words that felt like a melody, and you could distinctly catch his scent on the jacket he had given you that night—one you hadn’t been able to resist wearing ever since.

 Your mind slowly grasped your reality, your mouth growing dry, and it felt absurd. It wasn’t as if you wanted this to happen—there was no sense to it—but you could no longer push him out of that space in your mind.

…

“It’s quite big; will more people be coming here?” your voice echoed nervously through the studio as your fingertips froze. You had arrived a few weeks ago and had taken a few singing lessons that Noel had arranged with another professional, but now you feared he might become your only tutor moving forward.

[mejaemin]

como te quiero yo - h.js

chapter one ˖⁺‧₊˚✦

wc ✿₊⊹ 1.3k

synopsis ✿₊⊹ the relationship between rising artist joshua hong and you, popular beauty influencer, has finally come to light. this story follows you and your lover, living life happily despite whatever anyone says in the outside world.

warnings ✿₊⊹ established relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of hate/criticism, this is not an idol au, allusions to breaking up, it doesn’t happen tho !!! i love love and writing this made me feel single

author's note ✿₊⊹ happy birthday to shua !!! ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ i love this man so bad its not even funny. i couldn’t put it into words even if i tried. here’s a little something to celebrate his day ♡ it’s a little sad for a birthday gift so maybe (maybe) i’ll write smth happier for a proper one ??? until now enjoy this !!!

main masterlist | ctqy masterlist

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

it’s been just under two weeks since you and joshua have publicly announced your relationship and he’s already gone offline. it took months of discussion and procrastination out of fear, but with the support of both your teams, you decided to go public. it’s been almost a year since you got together, and it only feels right to say something. not everyone was happy, but you backed the decision up with the very unapologetic fact that you both were adults, fully developed ones at that, and to say either of you to really be single at this age would be a lie.

to say that joshua’s nerves were completely under control, you’d be lying. it’s not that he’s worried about disappointing anyone (though that’s still upsetting for him to think about), it’s more about the chance of fans not accepting it. they can whine and complain all they want, but for them to do so and then additionally ignore or stop being a fan would break his heart. it was already iffy for him to do something like this so early in his career, so for him to try something like this was quite dangerous.

don’t even get him started on you. you’ve already been popular on the internet for a while, and had millions of supporters across all platforms. you were loved by many, enough to feel comfortable with sharing the news. you waited for joshua to be ready, however, out of respect. when you first got together you revealed that you were no longer single, and for his own comfortability you kept it at that. ever supportive of his feelings, you stayed patient and waited for him to be ready to reveal whatever else he wanted to.

contrary to him, you were handling it well. with lots of experience, you were able to keep calm and ignore everyone’s negative comments. there were a few times where you were upset by comments towards your relationship, but again you weren’t afraid to clap back. joshua stayed silent, still afraid of upsetting anyone, but through the many couple photos and replies on live streams, you made sure everyone knew you weren’t quitting because a few people were unhappy.

enduring the past few weeks of this is what led you to where you are now, sitting across from each other at the dinner table of your shared home in silence as you eat. joshua’s non-dominant arm is stretched across the table holding your hand, his thumb leaving comforting strokes on the back of your palm. when you look at where you’re connected, the silver bracelet matching your own glimmers under the soft lighting of your dining room.

you’re really trying your hardest to stay strong for your lover, but it’s hard when you worry so much, especially with how he has yet to let you in. this is why you stay dead silent while eating, sacrificing your regular chitchat to make sure you don’t break. however, joshua puts his fork down and speaks up, calling your name in a soft whisper.

when you look up, he continues. “do you think we’re doing the right thing?”

you’re about to ask what he means when his eyes flicker to your bracelets and back up. the tears pool on your waterline as you respond. “us? of course we are, joshua. are you really thinking what i think you are?” the hurt in your voice couldn’t be hidden even if you tried.

his eyes widen and he immediately begins shaking his head. “n- no, baby, of course not. i just.. was now the right time?” when you finally manage to clear the tears in your eyes and look at him, he’s got a troubled look in his eyes as he bites at his lip.

you let go of his hand so you can get out of your seat. walking over to stand between his legs, you cradle his face in your palms and pull his lip from his teeth with your thumb. on instinct he wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on your stomach. you run your finger over his bottom lip, gliding over the teeth marks and reddened spots from being bitten at. you lean down to kiss his forehead, returning to your previous position to run your fingers through his hair.

your face is so full of love, trying so hard to show him how real your feelings are. your hands caress his skin with utmost care, knowing him well enough to be sure of the fact that there’s so much doubt and anxiety in his head that needs help being removed. he’s still new to this lifestyle, and so you coddle him that much more as he makes his adjustment. unfortunately, the start of his career was not so kind to him. you can only hope it gets better.

after a few beats of silence, joshua hides his face in your stomach, and you keep quiet to continue massaging his scalp. just a minute later you feel water begin to seep through your shirt, and his body shudders as he cries silently. you pull away, kneeling in front of him.

the sight in front of you makes your heart hurt, seeing the way he’s avoiding eye contact as tears continue to run down his cheeks. you bring your hands to either side of his face, thumbs gliding across his skin gently while wiping tears away.

“oh, love…” you start. just hearing your words has his head dipping down into his hands, his emotions getting the best of him.

you get up, leading him to your shared bedroom. laying down first, you invite him into your arms before covering your bodies in the comforter. he lays there on your chest for a few moments before clearing his throat, having calmed down.

“i just.. can’t stop reading comments, and i’m-“ he pauses, taking a deep breath. you return to stroking his hair, holding him close to your chest. “i’m worried that they’re right.”

you kiss his crown. “about what?”

“they think you could do better. that you could find someone bigger than me.” he speaks softly, almost mumbling.

“that’s not true, you know that.” you’re immediately shooting the idea down, refusing to let it even become something bigger.

“but seriously. i’m an inconvenience to you. if you were with someone who was as popular as you, you’d probably get support. but everyone’s mad because i’m just some random guy.” he’s sitting up now, looking into your eyes. it’s always been a thing for him to speak with you directly about serious things.

you grab his hands, holding them tightly in your own. the little magnet attached to the end of your bracelets comes together, and you can’t help but smile at it. “you’re not just some random guy, you’re my amazing boyfriend who could never ever be an inconvenience to me. i don’t care about how popular you are, because you make me feel so happy. you’re literally everything i could ever ask for, and truthfully, i’d rather have you than anyone of my status because they’re all assholes.”

he nods, choosing to stay silent. you squeeze his hands in silent reassurance, and he does the same. you speak up once again, “you don’t inconvenience me. you make my life infinitely better, shua. please don’t listen to them, okay?”

he takes one hand away to wipe his eyes one last time before looking at you, smiling softly. “okay.” he pulls you into a hug, your heart-shaped magnets splitting, your real ones connecting in your embrace. “thank you so much darling, for everything. i’m very lucky to have you.”

you pull your head away to kiss him, soft and full of love. “of course, love. i’ll always be here for you, and we’ll survive this. i’ll make sure of it.”

he hums, not responding in favor of keeping you in his arms. you stay just like that for the rest of the night, in each other’s arms. it started out rough, but ended so much better. words of affirmation are all that were needed to begin the process of healing wounds, and it proves that you’re right. nobody is being inconvenienced, and your love runs deep enough to prove that this is only a minor road bump, and everything will smooth out in the near future.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

taglist ✿₊⊹ empty… 💔

[vyl3tpwny]

genuine question: why is genesis so low on ur topsters?

also, if you can: could i hear why hawaii: part ii is rated 3.5 on ur rateyourmusic? (as opposed to like. anything higher)

(p. s. your music inspires me to be the sincerest version of myself, and for that i thank you. the impact you've had on my life is unforgettable.)

genesis isn't rated low. my number one album of all time is genesis' "the lamb lies down on broadway", for about 16 years running. my topster is organized by relative colour, it's not perfect but it just looks nice!

—

when it comes to talking about music, what i like and like about it, almost 100% of the time i NEVER want to discourage people, talk down to artists, or claim my opinion as fact. the only time i will actively talk down about art is if it's purposefully harmful (see artists like: Tom Macdonald, etc).

with that said, music by miracle musical - and by extension tally hall - often does this thing where there are a handful of really impressive, well written songs that just blow me away. but then the rest of the album outside of those handful of songs are either just ok/catchy or don't interest me very much. the tally hall gang's highs are very high, and equally their lows are just sort of pace-killers for the albums.

it's dynamics like these that prevent me from liking some of my other albums for similar problems! i think albums like queen of misfits and glitter are bogged down by an absurd amount of boring filler that could have just been left out or reworked to be more interesting, it makes it hard to ever listen to those albums front to back. ironically i don't feel that way about fairytails, my 40-song long ass album, almost everything in it still feels rather purposeful to me. i listen to my own music a lot, and once i've finished a project i tend to try and listen to it and enjoy it from an audience perspective rather than an artist one.

while i'm on the topic, i don't necessarily agree with even rating hawaii pt. ii 3.5 because in the past few years i've completely lost interest in the idea of weighing albums by arbitrary scores. nowadays i like to just give 4-5's to albums i like and then ignore anything else. it doesn't really make sense to me to assign a number score to something with good faith, other than to show that score to other people. interfacing with art is not a black and white process. despite the so-called 3.5/5.0 score i gave hawaii pt. ii whenever that was, the reality is that record has influenced me and i've enjoyed it. honestly that's what matters the most. we can sit here and talk album dynamics, technicalities, compositional proficiency, lyric profundity, and """""consistency"""""" (which is a word music critics love to throw around without actually realizing what the fuck they're talking about) all day, but what matters the most is:

Did you like the music? (Yes/No)

Did it inspire you in some way? (Yes/No) [Optional]

Does it seek to do harm? (Yes/No)

Do you respect the efforts and goals of the artist? (Yes/No) [Should always be the inverse of Question 3; i.e; if you answer No to 3, then you should answer Yes to 4]

honestly if you answer yes, yes, no, yes, then it's a good album. i really don't care. not every piece of art has to push the envelope to new heights and be the most innovative thing in the world - i mean wouldn't that be extremely fatiguing and overwhelming? everyone wants to be a critic and tear down shit that doesn't click with them within the first viewing/listen these days, i don't know why, it's probably an ego thing, bred by the echo chambers in the corners of the internet. but a lot of music criticism can be COMPLETELY discarded in favour of "this just isn't for me", and a lot of people go leaps and bounds, doing mental gymnastics over internal compensations, to just avoid saying the dreaded phrase of "this just isn't for me".

trust me, i'm someone who has immense experience with tearing other people down to compensate for my internal insecurities, it happens extremely often which is why a lot of art criticism makes ZERO fucking sense. it's never about making meaningful commentary about anything, it's always just trying to justify in the format of a dissertation - the subjective experience of "this just isn't for me".

so. do i like hawaii pt. ii? yep. is it a perfect album? no. why did i rate it 3.5? probably because at the time i wanted someone somewhere to perceive me as Very Articulated and Well Educated In The Realm of Discussing Art In Front of Other People, in Order to Appear Superior in Intellect and Refined in Taste, Because I'm Insecure Just Like Everyone Else.

[dailyrothko]

Hi! I’m already drawn to Rothko’s art so much just by looking at his paintings on my tiny phone screen. But it is quite unlikely that I’ll get to see his paintings irl, at least not for a few years. Would you mind sharing your experience of looking at a Rothko? Thank you for putting in the work on this blog :)

Hi, I'm sorry I didn't answer this sooner but Tumblr has not been notified me that I have messages and I forgot to check. I've had a coupled of weeks of insomnia so you may have to forgive some languid prose.

In my early viewings of Rothko, I think my reactions were fairly standard exchanges with modern art when you're getting acclimated. Among these, were how big the paintings were, and I duplicated this surprise in my viewings of a couple of other abstract, expressionist painters, notably in my mind, Franz Kline, Jackson Pollock and Lee Krasner along with Rothko.

I think there's a hand in the hand reaction about the size that then you are aware the paintings are not hard edged, the way, say an Ellsworth Kelly painting would be. There's a plastic look effective in pop-art that Rothko strenuously avoided. They are undeniably sensual, almost romantic.

Once you get the size, you can really appreciate this because when you read art monographs or look at the internet, the lens is so reduced, one tends to get a constricted notion of color squares like you would see in a color theory book. However, the face-to-face confrontation reveals quite the opposite feeling of that kind of art.

It's a little hard to describe, but it's not that the paintings are completely soft. They have a lot of minor details, brushstrokes, stray lines and bits of splattered paint, but none of those colliding forces interfere with an overall limitless impression of the form that makes it very different from hard edge or gestural painting (like de Kooning). Part of what's hard to describe, is how it is not soft, but rather translucent, not vague, but flowering out to infinity.

I find with Rothko in particular that when you start looking, you want to keep looking. I suppose one of his detractors might say you're doing it because you're looking for something where there is nothing, but my experience with art is that, where there is nothing you quickly move on. Rothko might be equated in some minds with an Antonioni movie (Certainly Antonioni himself thought this) where it has a quality of nothingness but not one of no meaning. We read meaning into everything we are exposed to, it's part of how our brains process things, but perhaps Rothko's great skill is inviting you to look. i would not be the first to think so.

My tendency to invest in things I like leads me to unconsciously test myself as if from the outside, making sure that I am not fooling myself as to the merit of it (who wants to be a sucker, right?) and, I've seen a couple over the years that I felt didn't age well, maybe, something about them didn't look as alive, not the color combinations, but possibly something with the paint dulling overtime. I don't think galleries like to talk about it because the artist so valuable as an investment, but you do see, if rarely, paintings would you feel maybe age got the better of. Much of this, though can be attributed to the way light works with Rothko. The public tends to gripe when a gallery is not brightly lit, but Rothkos tend to wilt under bright lights and lose depth. This has a lot to do with the fact that Rothko painted in dim light like El Greco, and voiced his paintings to speak this way.

When they do work, which is quite often, it's pretty vivid, and I feel, entrancing. When I first got really interested in Rothko in my late teenage years, I did not know a single person who was interested in it among my group of friends and I bought a poster from the cover of Bonnie Clearwater's works on paper book and I hung it on my wall. It was a conversation starter because nobody liked it! I suppose that's the age where some people are geared towards something more classically punchy.

My feeling of the paintings, especially early in my life, remind me of an effect one might feel from music that you've never heard before, much like the response I had from the early rural blues music of the late 1920s. I didn't know how much I loved it exactly, I only knew that it was powerfully beckoning me to return. And, as one returns, you participate in a communion. You relax into it and the feelings you have rise to the surface, sometimes framing emotionally charged interchange between you and the art. I think that's a lovely thing to get from whatever kind of art you like.

Now, I am kind of an old hand at seeing Rothko paintings, but I rarely cease to be surprised by them and that maybe that is their finest attribute.

I can't imagine this helps much, but I hope that when you do see one in person, you will write and share your impressions, because after all, they are the ones that count

[carriesthewind]

"My investigation shows that discussions about the integrity of our news ecosystem, filter bubbles, plagiarism, copyright, and AI art should focus almost entirely on the fact that American tech giants are obsessed with conquering and colonizing the entire world with products that are half baked and are extremely poorly moderated in languages that are not English. Any conversation about the failing business models of news in the United States, the “communities” we build on social media, and the degradation of the English-language internet due to AI spam is completely divorced from the reality that the people actually spamming these platforms are operating in a different cultural, political, and economic context than the artists or journalists who are having their work ripped off. Big tech has built and invested heavily in these tools, and, knowingly or unknowingly they’re paying people to use them."

[k9emote]

And just to add on! I never said my "art" was 100% by me I simply just didn't tell people, hate to say it but ive actually given up on being an artist because of people like you. I've commissioned and gave you money, and your friends money for art yet you still want to complain about me using somthing almost 4 months ago now to help me put food on the table. What you don't seem to understand is ain't nobody gonna tell you their entire life on the internet. You have no idea what a person could be going through yet you still sent your server of over 3000 people after a 15 year old girl who was just trying to enjoy creating something.

To say that I was "suicide baiting" is crazy because when did I EVER mention killing myself.

And one last thing, your sever is a cult. It's also fucking disgusting. A cesspool of brainless children looking for online relationships. You, yourself being included. It's a breeding ground for grooming and such things. You disgust me. The fact I have multiple screenshots of you saying you were "gods favorite lamb" please get a damn life dude. Your mental unwellness actually is a joke. The way you are open about your disgust for fat people is repulsive. You can't blame trauma on everything hope this helps xx

Your words speak for themselves on your character.

I am not disgusted by fat people. My current partner is plus sized. I asked for advice once on our perspective of incredibly unhealthy overweight people, and if feeling sick when seeing them made us a bad person. Our ex was morbidly obese due to her feederism and v0re kink. she bragged about being overweight to us and sexualized it. She wrote fanfics about force feeding us. She fetishized our ED. She roleplayed vore and feederism nightly behind our back with strangers while we were sleeping in vc together. We are working on untainting the mark she left on us, and that process is not for you to discredit or spread rumors about.

I'm not giving you consequences. I am protecting people and safespaces by alerting them of your repeated abusive behavior to keep people safe. The world does not revolve around you. You are receiving NATURAL CONSEQUENCES for being an ABUSIVE LIAR. No matter your age.

Drop the guilt tripping. Tracing over AI you were generating for art trades was not putting money on the table. You "never said the art was 100% yours", are you fucking serious? Your story of being the victim grows every time you speak. You being 15 does not mean you get to do whatever you want and expect nothing but pity. We tried to help. Us and our mods were there for you to vent to even after you admitted to shit talking us in the past. You did this to yourself.

Blacking out your entire profile and sending cryptid goodbyes to my entire staff team, even people you had never spoken to, is suicide baiting. When we blocked you on our main you found our ALT and sent the same short goodbye message. That comes off strongly as implying suicide.

For the love of god I'm not harassing you I'm just not letting you spit on my name using baseless rumors because you're upset you got caught. What the fuck did you think would happen?

I sent NO ONE after you and I am near COMPLETELY confident you have not been harassed. I have said over and over again to not harass you when I put out info on you to ban for members safety. That is NOT harassment. Your victim complex is insane.

Also. My server is not a "cult" and saying that to a survivors face is repulsive. It isn't a word to throw around and you make me sick. Please leave me alone. Stop messaging me. Stop threatening me. Stop lying about me. It will not make people feel bad for you. It will not make you feel better.

[ihopesocomic]

Sorry, but Is it wrong to train AI with my own content? For example, making my own characters to use in the character AI, just for inspiration or to practice dialogues. I don't post any of that. Just as drafts or to get ideas. It's like that artists who redesigning AI art. I never would do that to someone's character who doesn't want to.

I've also had very bad experiences on discord and amino before, and because of that I think this ends up being safer too. People encourage kids to look for friends online, but when something bad happens, they just say "That's why kids shouldn't be on the internet talking to strangers!" 😕

I think AI art being implemented in the art market is a bigger problem than kids using an app to talk to a anime character.

I'm sorry to hear about your experiences on Discord and Amino but social interactions on those platforms aren't the be all or end all of social interactions. There's a few people I know who don't use Discord servers at all and just use it to chat to close friends they've met on places like Twitter or Tumblr. Or they still use Skype.

And the fact that it's not good for children to isolate themselves to avoid learning how to use the internet safely aside, you do know these AI chats contain things not appropriate for children, right? Like a lot of them contain NSFW elements? Because yeah, bold of you to assume that it's just kids doing this. oof

"I think AI art being implemented in the art market is a bigger problem than kids using an app to talk to an anime character."

OK, cool, only artwork isn't the only thing AI is imitating. People are out here using generators to draw up fake scenarios with our creations instead of having some integrity and just writing them out themselves. idk it's just wild how you've gone from saying 'I never would do that to someone's character who doesn't want to' and 'well, it's not a big deal - it's only kids talking to a character' in the same ask. Which is it?

You also can't claim that you care about AI art being implemented and then completely discount things like writing, music and voice work being imitated. Those are forms of art that have human effort and talent put into them too and where livelihoods can also be ruined by AI. Journalism is deemed almost obsolete as a human profession now because AI has become that good at writing out articles with a few prompts.

It's either all or nothing. - RJ

[yggdraseed]

An Incomplete Analysis of the Sukunadome

I stress the point that this is an inherently incomplete analysis. It's getting late, I'm tired and unhappy, and… well, the fight isn't over yet, so there's no way this analysis could be complete even if I felt like it. However, it's on my mind, and I feel the need to start exerting myself more on these things. Sometimes sweat is the better medicine. I know this is a long one and doesn’t have any pictures, but if we all support each other, we’ll get through it together.

Full disclosure, I wish more people had gotten filtered by this fight and just stopped talking about Jujutsu Kaisen by now. Like yeah, I think it's great different people see things in different ways, but let's all be honest with ourselves here, most of the people criticizing this fight are not doing so with any sort of literary or artistic perspective or good faith. Most of it is Gojo fans who are still crying, seething, vomiting, pissing, and shitting over the fact that the character they attached their ego to didn't win Jujutsu Kaisen like they wanted. If this describes you, well, this post will probably do you some good, but I'm confident nobody who takes the stance that Gojo should have won would have the space in their mind for what I'm about to say about Sukunadome.

Because that's what I'm calling it. "The Sukuna Cycle" was maybe a little funny for a week or two, but like most memes about this series, it wasn't really based on the story so much as it was on an agenda. Kusakabe was part of the fight since Yuji and Higuruma entered, and up until Miguel, we knew all the combatants who would be tagging in were there. We knew Yuta was off dealing with Kenjaku and would return, we knew Maki was in play, and there really weren't a lot of switches. Just Choso leaving and coming back, Ui Ui retrieving Higuruma's and Gojo's corpses, and… you know, actually, I think that's it. Sure isn't as much as the "Sukuna Cycle" memes made it out to be, huh?

Okay, if you haven't noticed yet, I'm a big JJK fan and a big JJK fandom hater. I think JJK has the worst Western internet fanbase I've seen in a long time, with only a few oases scattered across the internet where you can find intelligent life. Like it's insane what kind of bullshit a person can convince themselves of.

However, I'm not analyzing JJK's fanbase, I'm analyzing JJK. Someday we'll litigate whether or not Lobotomy Kaisen was really funny enough to justify how badly it ruined this fanbase's ability to objectively, productively engage with with one of the most competently written and culturally impactful manga to come out this century. Today is not that day.

So Sukuna's got four arms and knows how to use them. He's got four eyes and so much sass one mouth wasn't enough for the amount of trash he's got to talk to the youths of today. Just on a basic level, having four arms would be such an insignificant power in any other Shonen as to almost be a joke. Yet with how jujutsu sorcery functions as a power system and how adept Sukuna is at using every possible advantage at his disposal - even going so far as to take what probably should be disadvantages and twist them to work for him - having the ability to make hand seals while fighting hand-to-hand, and being able to chant without interrupting his breathing, are inseparable from Sukuna's godlike fighting ability. I love how something seemingly so mundane is such a huge x factor for Sukuna.

We continually see how Sukuna is a complex, but fundamentally vile antagonist. He has a very rich, detailed view of the world, but one that fundamentally reduces every other human being to be his playthings and food. It's just that Sukuna says, "Don't like it? Then get stronger." It's a very Social Darwinist, late stage capitalist view to be coming from the Heian Era, and I think that maybe it's intentional. Shitty people are shitty in mostly the same ways, it's just they find new things to be shitty about or to use to be shitty with.

Like if that were all it is, it'd make Sukuna so effective as a villain to hate and would slot so nicely into Jujutsu Kaisen's overarching social and political commentary. Cruelty within suffering, selfishness as a strength and a weakness, the unfairness of how the strength to pursue one's agency is unevenly distributed and how the haves don’t realize how easily they could have instead been have-nots, it's all there.

But there’s this inherent charisma to Sukuna that I think is intentional. He has this noblesse oblige where he’s so inherently aware of his greatness that he doesn’t have a problem with giving credit where credit is due. Like he talks all the trash when he’s fighting Jogo, but where Gojo’s insults come across as puerile and blunt, Sukuna’s always displaying this wit to him. And when the battle’s over, he acknowledges that even though Jogo wasn’t as strong as him, he was stronger than most and could have gone even further if he hadn’t held himself back. He starts off belittling Gojo in their fight, but by the end, he expresses a profound respect and gratitude towards Gojo. Like it’s a very warped form of those sentiments, but I think it’s sincere. Even with Ishigori, when Sukuna fails to cut him the first time, he just acknowledges it was disrespectful to hold back and that he’ll give it full force the next strike.

Something to keep in mind is that everything Megumi warned Yuji about when it comes to ancient sorcerers applies to Sukuna as well. They’re not treated as uniformly, unambiguously evil anymore than anyone else in JJK is, and are acknowledged as having fundamentally different world views about violence and the value of human life. Kashimo, for instance, seems to value his life only because he’s able to risk his life and lay it on the line. They’re people from an era where children died so young that parents often gave them numbered names so as to not get too attached until they’d see if their kids actually were going to make it or not. If you didn’t give your whole life over to a goal, you probably wouldn’t achieve it. Whereas modern sorcerers, modern people, have all these complex and sometimes contradictory views and needs, ancient sorcerers show a tendency to shave everything away except their one singular conviction because that was what you had to do in an era of much shorter life expectancies and peril on all sides. You’d be very lucky to accomplish one life goal, let alone as many as people of today set out to achieve: graduating high school, graduating college, getting a job, starting a family, and hopefully having one or two passions on the side. Fundamentally different worldviews from fundamentally different periods of history.

And Sukuna is no different. His goal is simple: partake in the many colors and flavors of humanity through mortal combat in the arena of sorcery. Sukuna’s love for sorcery runs deep. He’s always curious about different cursed techniques, even ones that are pedestrian to a sorcerer of his level, like Nanako’s smartphone-based technique. He reminds me of a quote from Baki: “Someone who works hard can never beat someone who enjoys himself.” Sukuna has clearly put forth great effort to master sorcery, but clearly doesn’t see it as work. He sees it as just doing what he enjoys and is good at.

Unfortunately for everyone else, he enjoys killing and is extremely good at it. Sukuna is the ultimate ethical heat death of the “live for yourself, cherish your own agency, don’t let yourself be controlled” mindset that is the ideological starting point of JJK. It’s a very dark, extreme interpretation of Buddhist non-attachment, where even compassion is an attachment to ultimately shed. Sukuna lives perfectly freely, including being free from guilt or compassion.

Naturally, there’s an exception. All things seem to have exceptions. In Sukuna’s case, that would be Uraume. I’ve been fascinated by their dynamic since we first learned of Uraume’s allegiance to Sukuna during Shibuya and I still can’t wait to know more. Suffice to say, Sukuna dotes on Uraume, forgiving their mistakes and seeming to enjoy their company not just because of their service to him, but because their existence makes him happy. I’m reminded of Power in Chainsaw Man, how she was seemingly incapable of empathy or mercy until she met Meowy.

Honestly, Sukuna reminds me a lot of a lot of characters in Chainsaw Man. People who are trying to climb from this state of misery, of struggling just to meet basic desires, and learning to be human. Yet Sukuna is so strong he never needed to learn to be human. He never needed to cooperate with others to survive — or at least, doesn’t seem to believe he did — and so he never saw the value in it. And so he’s basically brute forced his way around having to undergo an arc like Denji’s, and has instead ended up a hedonistic black hole devising all these complicated philosophical arguments to justify what is, really, a very simplistic, predatory desire to only satisfy his basic material wants and creative interests and nothing else for anyone else.

But like, it’s not that simple. If you give to others, you get something immaterial in return. I can’t quantity it or define it, but I’m sure most of you know what I mean. The happiness that comes from taking care of others’ needs, and the deeper levels beyond that happiness. Like I do believe that’s the subtext behind Binding Vows as metaphor: that you almost never give without getting in return. You might not get the same thing back, in the same form, but being changed by the act of putting the needs and wants of others before your own even temporarily still is part of the exchange. It’s part of becoming complete as a human being.

Sukuna has defied that exchange and broken the cycle, and I don’t think it’s inherently for his own benefit. There are some thing about being human that you don’t just get to opt out of, no matter how much you claim you’re more than or less than human. Even if Sukuna doesn’t think he’s lost something of value, he has. And that something of value is inherent to the whole point of this final battle.

Jujutsu Kaisen is basically working on two big problems. There are lots of ideas at play in the series, but there are two fundamental problems for which every fiight, every character arc, every turn of the gears consitutes part of the calculus to solve one or both of those problems.

The first problem, a thematic and philosophical one: “How do you love and fight for something when you know you’re going to die?”

The second problem, a metatextual one: “Is there any artistic and social value left in the Shonen formula as it stands in the modern day?”

And this fight is, ultimately, where GeGe is showing their work. It’s where Yuji has to defeat Sukuna, if not in terms of out-boxing him, then in terms of prevailing over his beliefs about humanity and the world as a whole.

GeGe has stripped Yuji of everything that is supposed to determine the worth of a Shonen protagonist’s victory. He’s not fighting alone, he didn’t go off and train all by himself, he trained with a lot of powerful, smart people who helped him. And Yuji is arguably not even the most important participant in the fight. So why should we care if Yuji wins?

The answer is so simple it’s easy to lose track of it. Yuji is risking his life to rescue someone, his friend, from being exploited, and to save the people of Japan from being exploited. Even after everything that’s happened, Yuji plants his fucking feet and takes a stance that no, shithead, there is such a thing as the right thing. Maybe it isn’t obvious all the time, and it sure as hell isn’t always easy to know what it is, but he knows now with certainty what it isn’t: to exploit others or to destroy yourself. We can find our answers somewhere in-between.

Sometimes we can’t resolve our problems with a tidy solution that makes everyone happy and sometimes we have to carve a piece of ourselves out and give to something we won’t be sure to see the fruition of, but that’s just life. It doesn’t mean we have to throw away all hope for things to get better. Even if the world won’t become utopian, it can still become better, no matter how many nihilists hide their own inequities behind assertions that there is no point.

Nihilism is not a solution to the problems of life, it is the choice to run away and hide. To give into nihilism is to give up the fight even while other people are still fighting all around you.

So that’s the fucking point of the Sukunadome. Nobara already said it better than anyone else has before she made Mahito look like the bitch he was and always will be: “Sometimes you need to fight even when you know you can’t win.” Because you won’t always win and you won’t escape death, nor will you know what lies beyond death. However, you can still live according to your principles and fight for the things you see as meaningful even if other people don’t.

That is why so many characters have come and gone from the fight. All gave some, some gave all. Nobody is truly useless — even if Miwa self-deprecatingly jokes about being useless, she still was the one thing standing between Maki and Malevolent Shrine’s eviscerating hellscape. Even Amai’s sweets-conjuring joke technique saved Hana from a would-be fatal fall and helped to supply sugar to the brains of people using reverse cursed technique in Shoko’s triage. Larue couldn’t do much, but they caught Sukuna’s eye at the perfect time for Yuji to land a Black Flash, and that means something. It all means something.

Given how deeply GeGe clearly respects Hunter X Hunter, I want to end off by citing one of the quotes in Hunter X Hunter that has been the most impactful for me and I suspect has been about as impactful on GeGe: “It seems small things… infinitesimally small things… are needed to build the entire universe. The size of a thing has nothing to do with its power.” We always seem to direct our senses to the superlatives. The largest, the oldest, the loudest, the things that hit the hardest. But while it would be wrong to throw those out, we often lose sight of how many little, important things there are in the midst of those huge, important things.

Seeing someone’s smile when you remembered something they said that showed you were listening to them. The feeling of a warm breeze on a summer morning. The smell of honeysuckle on your walk home. Waking up to rain on a Sunday. The taste of watermelon. Getting married. Having your heart broken. Songs that make you smile, songs that make you cry — songs that do both, and songs that make you feel things you can’t describe. When you’re always looking to those immense, monolithic things, always comparing your seemingly small, seemingley meaningless life to them, you lose sight of just how meaningful all of it is.

Just because it doesn’t have cosmic, absolute meaning doesn’t make it meaningless. Every little thing that means something to you is worthy of being cherished. The people around you, the things that bring you happiness, even if that happiness is going to ebb and flow. It’s all worth fighting for and living for. It just takes bravery and conviction to keep fighting and keep living with authenticity and love. And if there’s an artistic value, a greater meaning to Shonen, now and always, it’s the unerring, unabashed belief that there’s a reason to aim high and not give up.

Because sometimes, life hurts. But if it’s just pain, Yuji Itadori will never stop. We’ll see what I have to amend, reconsider, or elaborate on when the fight is finished. I hope this gave some of you a new way to look at it.

[olderthannetfic]

Ok, wow, this is NOT the type of ask you seem to get usually, but this appears to be my best option...

I'm seeking out a post that is not particularly fandom-y in nature, but I was reminded of it after reading the earlier anon who was burned out from AI discourse - I totally feel the same way, and there was a really great lengthy textpost I reblogged a few months ago (read: "I read it any time from, like, April 2024 to almost a year ago......sorry") that I cannot find on my blog nor on tumblr in general - either because the post has been completely nuked from the internet OR because I'm just bad at SEO searches and remembering the keywords that were actually IN the post. I'm hoping it's a me issue or, if the post IS nuked, at the very least someone here remembers it and has an internet archive link or screenshot or something????

to get to the point, there was a post that was like (paraphrased, quote marks are not literal quotes):

"When it comes to the anti-AI crowd on tumblr, there's basically two schools of thought: people who completely hate AI and everything about it and are opposed to all forms of AI without even learning what AI really is. These people are stuck in their ways and generally can't be reasoned with.

Then there's a second group who are against AI for pretty good reasons - they really are worried that AI is gonna completely take over and steal artists' livelihoods, those who criticize it for environmental activist reasons, etc. These people generally can be reasoned with as they're truly misinformed, and in fact they would be - or already are - receptive to a less harmful AI."

The post then went on to compare AI to other forms of automation and made some really great parallels; such as bringing up the fact that stores that have both self checkout AND cashiers tend to be the best business models, because people who have their preferences can choose how they want to shop, AND we can utilize automated checkouts without completely getting rid of cashiers, which is obviously good for a lot of reasons.

It also debunked a lot of common fearmonger-y arguments against AI, i.e. explaining what "training AI" really entails, with some general copyright-critical philosophy in general. (I don't know the actual, like, political term, if one even exists, but basically they were talking about flaws with "intellectual property" as a concept - or at least how IP works today and why it works the way it does.)

There was also a really good addition to the OP's thoughts that I liked, with another user talking about: Essentially people who are gonna use AI would likely have done something else sketchy anyway, even if AI as it stands today didn't exist. For example, chatGPT isn't to blame for plagiarism. The people who use chatGPT to do their homework would, in an earlier time, likely go on Chegg / pay someone to write an essay / reuse their old work / etc. Likewise, the people who tell open AI to make artwork for them likely wouldn't make (or try to make) their own artwork anyway, nor would they even commission someone. They talked about how since fandom is so damn divided on the topic of AI, that the artists who DO feel as if their commissions are being taken away from them, or the writers who DO fear AI taking over fanfic.......well, to put it nicely, those people likely wouldn't really be losing many fans in the first place. You didn't lose a commission to AI - that person never would've commissioned you in the first place, and the people that do commission you hate AI as much as you do. You're not losing readers to AI - people who choose AI fics over yours are likely already the impatient type who can't handle waiting more than a week for an update, so they just make AI feed them 10k in one sitting! And the people who DO comment and read on your stuff, also hate AI!

I definitely did not agree with every single point made on the post (ie i dont think the self checkout metaphor was a great direct parallel logistically, but I def picked up what they were trying to put out and overall agreed with the general sentiment), overall it made a lot of really, really, really good points about the AI debate that I'd truly never considered before.

I know I've damn near rewritten the whole post myself now at this point but I also know there's a lot of stuff that I'm missing or that I just can't word and I'd love to know if anyone else has seen this post or has it on their blog in some capacity.

--

[nouverx]

Good afternoon!!!

I am Andrew and how I can see your audience is pretty big and you're pretty popular in Hazbin community. So how did you gain you audience? I would wanted to listen some recommendations for new content makers.

Pal I don't know if I'm the right person to ask this ahah because I have no idea, I just draw what I like, post it and see how it goes basically. I just love Alastor and Radiorose so much that I need to talk about them and draw them or else I feel like I'm going to explode. I need art about them to chew on constantly so I check the radiorose tag almost everyday (sometimes I comment on posts and people seem surprised to see me there ahah guys I am just as brainroted as you yk). And I guess people are the same as me and need food to chew on too. Who knows

I'll ramble more under the cut:

Tbh I'm just an hobbyist I want to make art that I love and am passionate about and if it draws people's love and attention in the process then good! If not, then it's ok too. I least I made food for myself to enjoy.

It might be surprising but I spend my free time writing fanfics that I'm never going to post ahah, I just like to reuse some stuff I write and make them into comics. I write my little fake scenarios for my own enjoyment in the first place. For example this recent Radiorose comic originally was a one shot I wrote back in February. I only made it into a comic recently because I really wanted to share it with people (and fun fact at first it ended with Alastor being so startled by this whole conversation that he left her apartment without a word and didn't talk to her for like a week. I changed it to make it funnier because I like to entertain people more than make them sad :'D)

I don't want to be popular or make art for other people, I make it for my own enjoyment first and I just like to share it sometimes to see if people will enjoy my vision! So I dont know what kind of advice I could give you ahah I don't know if I have the right mindset for that.

I also think I have the bonus point of being an experienced artist. I've been drawing for 12 years, studied art academically for 6 years, I work in the animation industry, I have a lot of experience in posting online, and I've been drawing for a lot of fandoms in my life: Death Note, Undertale, Mystic Messenger, Moomin, Steven Universe, One Piece, The Legend of Zelda, Trigun Stampede, and now Hazbin Hotel. My artistic skills are completely different from when I was drawing in my first fandom (Death Note) in 2015 ahah. Now no matter what fandom I draw in I always get a decent amount of reactions thanks to my artistic skills and experience.

It makes me sad to see smaller artists compare themselves to me sometimes and be disappointed that they don't get as much attention as me. Just be aware that I have a degree in art and animation and I've been posting art on Internet since I'm 14. I'm almost 25. Don't beat yourself up you'll get there 💖

[silverkittenx9]

Satan Headcanons (Antonblast)

I already posted this in r/ANTONBLAST on reddit, but I'll also post it here because why not. I strive to add depth to even the goofiest of characters 🤣🤣 And yes, Satan loves cats because I said so 👍

Headcanons:

- The reason Satan wants to be the reddest thing on the planet is because he feels insecure about his own skin color (which is magenta). He had a rough family background where his parents told him he wasn't a man because he had lighter skin than his older brother. Everyone in his family actually had reddish skin of varying hues, but he didn't. His parents would belittle him and call him a "sissy" or a "girl" on a near constant basis. The trouble wasn't only at home; at school, peers would make fun of him for his effeminate interests and the fact he's a boy, and yet he has magenta skin. His incredibly shy and passive personality as a kid also made him susceptible to bullying. He definitely struggles with body dysmorphia to a degree. And we can conclude his envious, spoiled personality was a result of his terrible upbringing.

- Satan is the black sheep of his family; pretty much everyone ignores his presence when he's around. And when they do pay attention to him, it's usually negative. Aggression and being a total dickhead were the only ways Satan would get any kind of attention, so he kept doing it.

- Satan shows contempt for his parents; their belittling was the biggest reason why he never liked his magenta color. He also tries to keep his effeminate interests a secret from everyone else because he's worried they might make fun of him (yes, this includes his mole minions). He especially doesn't want Anton to find out he has kitten and bunny posters all over his room. God forbid Anton sees his pink bed complete with fluffy pillows and stuffed animals.... or his pink diary with a picture of a cat on the front.

- Satan's favorite pastimes are doing ballet, reading romance poetry, and watching soap operas and funny cat videos on the internet.

- He is a huge cat lover.... as evidenced by all the posters in his room. He regularly tries to kidnap Annie's pet cat so he could keep her as his own. His phone background is a picture of a kitten. He likes animals in general, but cats are his favorite. He once had a kitten that died within a few hours from suffocating in his arms while cuddling it.

- Despite surprisingly being gentle with animals most of the time, there are times when he snaps with them. One time, he was playing with a litter of kittens and one wouldn't stop biting his tail. What did he do in response? Well, he pulled the kitten's tail and asked, "How does it feel now?! How does it feel to get your tail pulled?!". He also whipped a dog because it wouldn't listen to him. He'd apologize each time though, citing anger issues as a major factor.

- Although he is chronologically thousands of years old, he has the physical appearance of someone in their 40s.

- He is a well-known scam artist in Boiler City. He impersonates as different occupations to not only make a quick buck, but also to purposefully piss people off. His aliases are puns based on his huge butt or the red color he wishes to have.

- Satan isn't a fan of spicy food because it's too strong for his taste buds. He prefers fancier meals most of the time (alongside some alcohol, of course). He frequents fancy restaurants as well.

- He and Anton have an intense rivalry with each other; rarely do they ever get along.... if at all. Ever since the incident where he stole Anton's alcohol, Anton never trusted the dude and refuses to believe he has any spec of "good" in him. Satan thinks the same thing about Anton. They flip birds whenever they see each other. On the other hand, he has a slightly nicer relationship with Annie.... even having a bit of a crush on her. He and Brulo are almost acquaintances; they don't interact much.

- Satan tends to make up tall tales and lies about other people. He claimed Brulo had a "dark secret" because he thought it was funny. The two don't even know each other well, by the way.

- The moles only work for him because he pays well.... and also because there isn't much to do in Hell. In fact, they're his only true friends.... if it weren't for them, he would have zero friends whatsoever.

- He takes his role as the ruler of Hell very seriously.... he likes to punish people when they do bad deeds, despite not being much of a saint himself. He takes pride in the suffering of horrible people (criminals, murderers, etc).