#Wolf Read

[chloesimaginationthings]

There's doomed yuri... in my FNAF ruin?

[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.

[sonicattos]

didn’t mean for this to be as finished as it is but here’s whispangle owl house reference

[demaparbat-hp]

Izumi (steambaby) sketches.

[stripeyworm]

your manic pixie dream girl and nightmare bad boy all in one I love binggeyuan sooo much. If I'm MIA, it's because I've fallen into quite the rabbit hole lately and going into hibernation!!

[raepliica]

one of these nights

[commsroom]

the u.s.s. horrible unending nightmare 💥 (once again from the incredible @hehearse)

[takaraphoenix]

The thing is, I could read a thousand Hale Pack fics featuring Sterek, Pack Mom Stiles, Jackson never leaving and Boyd and Erica living. A thousand variants of that, inject it into my veins.

[outsidewolves]

[rayalltheway]

The two canine life-appreciators that stole this whole movie

[ladystoneboobs]

imo one of the biggest proofs of sansa's character growth post-agot (which seems to be overlooked) is this, where grrm makes sure we know how her perspective of the trident incident has indeed shifted. why else even say this? it's not what the tyrells wanted to know, they asked about joff's treatment of her in particular, and "he lied about the butcher's boy" means nothing without context (and even if she said the lannisters used that lie to justify killing mycah, i doubt olenna, at least, would care). but for sansa atp, joffrey's sins against mycah are worth remembering and reporting as his first crime (known to her), that incident is now recognized as evidence of joff's montrosity, the wrongs committed against mycah by joffrey personally (as in not even his death) are on par with sansa losing her wolf and being beaten by the kg. sure, she still has some classism remaining, but to say she cares nothing for the smallfolk, and is still the same girl disgusted by mycah's smellyness, who later repeated joffrey's lie about him weeks after the fact and blamed arya for lady's death more than joffrey, that's just demonstrably untrue.

[juggermelon]

Sander takes great care of Atlas. Take notes!

[spoopy-arcade]

Roxy finds Cassie alive in the next game and helps her escape and adopts her like Freddy did with Gregory I work with steel wool 👍🏻

[wolfssixshadows]

Friendly reminder that Kaz goes to stare at the Emerald Palace everytime he feels low on rage. Just one good look at the eyesore and he's back and ready to take on the world.

[sterekcraptrash]

im not over them still 😔

they’re shit talking about someone

when will siand update the next chapter, i need food

[voidstilesplease]

swearing is basic. at this point in my life, only a few things faze me anymore. "I hope that 200k, 55 chapters ongoing fic on AO3 that you're religiously waiting to update weekly gets abandoned by the author." LE GASP. you sorry exCUSE of a CUNT—