#excuse u

[dailyayao]

[auditioheros]

now why would you say that @deathonate

[astrxlfinale]

" Caelus, look at this funny monkey on my phone. "

Caelus would scream.

His body would tear away from her mere approach, stumbling back against the Express's resilient casing as the mere mention of a fated foe rocks him to the core. Not just one, not just ten, a hundred or a thousand.

No. Trillions. Does she realize just how many forms of MONK-E can exist in the ever expanding cosmos? Whether by flesh and blood, infused by the Paths, whether they were forged from the ingenuity of Data itself. That weight of the living, the weight of the dead, so much of it finds itself attempting to turn into diamond manacles and cosmic chains.

For an instant he's speechless, his mouth hanging in a feeble attempt to allow language and rationale to guide a now lost voice. What burns within him, what surges akin to the veins of molten magma that can surge through the sun itself, was an urge to fight. To surpass exhaustion, fatigue and the grating weight.

"You.. don't get it.. Don't you? Is this just another 'haha' type of everyday!? Did your realm skimp past them entirely!?"

"This isn't a game!"

@remunporium

[valorxdrive]

Can't believe Sora's kink is nuns. :3

..

.........

%#@(*%@*(^*$(@^

COUGHHACKCOUGH

"WHOOOOOOOOO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT THAT?"

"DUNNO WHAT YOU"RE TALKING ABOUT."

[wolfsnape]

Les 3e avec Partenaire de galère

[sanjisblackasswife]

No offense but I think u have the same kinks as sanji

🙎🏽‍♀️

[xaallo]

The tiny mouse looking rat peers up at the much larger creature in both a mixture of fear and awe, rosey eyes blinking twice to take in the other’s full stature before reluctantly drawing his sword and shakily pointing it upwards.

“ S-Stay back — stay back, I’m w-warning you! “

He sounds no older than someone in their early 20’s…

"Eh?"

Xaallo turned round sleepily. Something had bumped into him...some vermin creature by the looks of it. He didn't meant to be rude, but the sneer twisting his face was a reflex. Xaallo didn't like mice or rats anymore than most people did, so a man-sized one pointing a weapon at him was not welcome news.

The buck rises and approaches, not terrified in the slightest, and deftly slaps the blade out of the mouse's hands. It clatters somewhere off to the side. Xaallo's eyes never leave the creature.

" Now," He starts.

" I'm gonna count to ten and I hope you're fast otherwise you're shaping up to get the horns, friend."

[sixthrock]

I love how the penguin looks oh so slightly offended

Density of penguin feathers to protect from the cold.

Emperor penguins reputedly have the highest feather density of any bird, with around 100 feathers per square inch of skin (15 per square centimeter).

[nemkero]

atla au but nothing changes except sokka is taller and zuko is shorter

[draculings]

an incredibly sensitive instrument.

[ronanxing]

harana

[z13lovebot]

Go fish

[princessbutler1316]

Woke: Oh, but Deadpool never gave any signs that he was LGBTQ+

Deadpool:

Woke: But Wolverine doesn't either

Wolverine:

[nikkipettt]

Fontaine’s newest tour guide! 👀🦉💚

[pokeberry5]

boy hostage (spiritual successor to this)

big brother to the rescue:

[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.