#Do u know what I mean.

[azu-rye]

i plugged in my ipad do u thjnk ill draw more now

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

the high guards littlest fan

[androidghoulz]

does anyone have that link that let's u see your dashboard in the past

[ruporas]

need to exist in your warmth (id in alt)

[hinamie]

7/3: pov u r nanami kento pleased that i managed to pull smth together in time for your bday

[ilickedanenvelopeandilikedit]

I need to roll a roller on my fingers until they’re squished fuckin noodles .

[technically-human]

Hey, don't cry. Ghost yuri, okay?

(Now that you know the girls, they need to meet the boys!)

[lucabyte]

i feel like people are sleeping on the occam's razor situation of how buckwild it is to outright accuse a guy of being a clone of your friend even if you DO have a lot of circumstantial evidence. there's other options is what im saying. they could just be like. a guy. that's a sensible deduction. you should explore that deduction. ignore my shirt that reads I <3 RED HERRINGS.

i still think odile has the correct theory on lock but she's smart enough to know it needs like... a real smoking gun to be able to bring it up without sounding insane.

anyway. (mirabelle voice) i know its rude to speculate but has anyone else noticed the grieving? they seem to be grieving. does anyone have any thoughts on the grieving? i have some thoughts on the grieving.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

while teen while goblin while aroace while injured while doing your best

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[jkvjimin]

"my happiness started when I met rapmon hyung" for @jung-koook ♡

[hinamie]

i mean he's got all the outfits now might as well show them off

bonus:

jjk atla!au with @philosophiums

[simplydm]

One thing I really appreciate about Cleo is that they have the inherent power of making whoever they’re talking to enter into a bickering match with them. Basically, talking to Cleo makes you divorced from Cleo. Somehow

[thessaralka]

you know what compels me about solas is he's a watcher. he knows all this shit that could totally help you out, but he lets you figure it out for yourself. keepts his mouth shut the entire time and just observes.

you're telling me this thousands-of-years old dude has NEVER been to the temple of mythal? where there are statues dedicated to him?? he has NEVER been inside a titan? no he absolutely has, and he's saying nothinggggg about it.

apart from the fact that he knows exactly what caused the breach and why, the blights, the evanuris, he also knows a bunch more shit about everything you're doing, and he's just along for the ride while you figure it all out by yourself, which he lets you do btw bc you're a smarty mc smartypants and he trusts that you're intelligent enough to do so. or not. he could probably care less (but if you constantly pleasantly surprise him, he cares).

you could argue that he's verbose, but compared to what he knows - thousands of years of knowledge - he gives us nothing. he's a fae creature. he lets us believe half truths and misdirects us constantly. he knows all this stuff, but never lets us in on it, thatttt intrigues me.

[stealingpotatoes]

I saw this on twitter and the idea of this happening sounds absolutely hilarious. Like Han, Ventress and Merrin just direct Thrawn to a DMV and make him coming to dathomir absolute hell (I also accidentally sent this ask to someone else 😅)

LMAO???? i take back everything I've ever said about legends, this is everything to me. nothing but respect for MY king of dathomir send that gay blueberry to parking ticket superhell