#I make connections

[paperglader]

they really put alicent in bridgerton blue on the reunion and genuinely expected me to think that she didn’t in fact march all the way to dragonstone to get wifed up? bfr

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

So. I have some thoughts. And I could put them into words, but I think it's better if I just...

Also:

Okay those are my thoughts :)

[unapologeticallydorky]

idk if anyone else felt this way, but in the Shapeshifter ep of Dungeon Meshi, it's treated like a joke that all the copies of Laios are super obviously not him, but isn't it kind of fucked up that Laios's closest companions don't seem to view him as... whole?

None of his companions had an accurate view of him as a person! One of the copies was a stupid, drooling mess! And on top of this, they all believed that because Laios struggles with social cues he wouldn't be observant to them as people. They just... fundamentally don't understand him.

I think the really accurate copies of the rest of the party was drawn from Laios's mind. His powers of observation and analytics are his strength, but that's not the same as being good with social cues.

Anyway. It made me really sad. I know his party cares about him, but it's so isolating to know your friends don't know you.

[defectivegembrain]

Like. Autism doesn't come with an automatic love of hearing anyone infodump about anything they love. In fact sometimes it comes with the opposite. Sometimes restricted interests are in fact restrictive enough to make anything else boring. Sometimes it's just hard to process that much speech. Doesn't mean we get to be unkind about it either but yeah. This fantasy people push of autistics having endless energy and appreciation for each other's special interests is just not realistic.

[jaredthebc]

Do you ever think about how almost all of N’s Pokémon throughout the first games were one offs he released after he battled you, how he cared about them all deeply enough that he thought it would be selfish to have them battle more than necessary. And do you ever think about how this is the case with all his Pokémon EXCEPT his Klinklang in the final battle at the league, where the second to last battle he had a Klink and this Klinklang is very likely that same Pokémon? Do you think this was a visual representation of his mindset wavering from a fixed point? How that Klink refused to leave him right away and he couldn’t bring himself to force them to leave because his mind is in so many different directions? He can keep them around just a little longer until he becomes champion, it won’t be long, he can bend things some so long as he doesn’t fully stray from his path…right?

Or is that just me am I the only one willing to be insane about Klinklang of all Pokémon

[seths-rogens]

i like to call this ‘popular mlm ships with freakishly similar name dynamics’

this means absolutely nothing i’ve simply been observing this for a hot sec

[nipuni]

Overflight 🌃

A speedpaint video of this will be available at my Patreon soon!

[evercelle]

joongdok so far to me. specifically chp 370

[vampimull3t]

SAME FUCKING PICTURE

[mobius-m-mobius]

#the Nowhere Man who waits and the God of Stories who watches

[lamina-tsrif]

you’ve changed (for the better)

for @where-does-the-heart-lie ‘s fighting game au I love ur designs I love them dearly

[forgettable-au]

FORGETTABLE-AU (page 82-85)

THAT LAZYBONES!!

[BEGINNING] [PREVIOUS] [CONTINUE]

[glassrunner]

"Fuck, man. What else is there to say?"

Excerpts from the BoJack Horseman Pony Express

MOUTHWASHING (2024), dev. Wrong Organ

[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.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Friendship never dies in FNAF..

[sabertoothwalrus]

ahaha you look so familiar for some reason that's so weird ahaha