#i'm hungry!

[bluecoffeebeanz]

"You make me better at this."

Prints

[utterlyhooked]

OMG! OMG! They meet again!!!

Even the background music works like magic... my heart!!! I probably need a lie down, or maybe food! hahahaha

Must start ep32 immediately!!!

[emawinslow]

time to go to this lil radio gathering thing and it's the first time they've done this so they're trying to get off the ground and I'm going to support👍 don't know for sure anybody that's gonna be there or what we're even doing I'm just banking on there probably being snacks

[tiny--cryptid]

OK this question has been bugging me all morning so y'all please let me know

bc ours did nd I never thought much of it as a kid but know I'm thinking about it and it feels kinda gross? so pls tell me if this experience was universal or not it will haunt me forever otherwise

[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.

[borgijin668]

Mikey's cooking (mis)adventures part 2! :3

How these doodles turned into little series, I have no idea...but I'm not complaining -I'm having so much fun, drawing this!

And here's a small bonus:

Over time, Mikey becomes quite a chef! ;3

part 1

~~!Masterpost!~~

[muffinlovingbirb]

Tales of Dungeons and Starvation

[mayra-quijotescx]

So the deep lore apparently suggests that Marcille is Italian, but the basis is her surname (Donato) and spaghetti and meatballs being an exemplar of the local cuisine... but in our world spaghetti and meatballs is more of a fusion cuisine that got its start in Italoamerican enclaves, so I'm going to go ahead and claim her for Elf South Philly.

[wolfchans]

[auchrauch]

i really wanted to give this work some cool meaningful title, but my head hurts, I'm annoyed by an overenergetic little kitten, I'm hungry and I probably have a fever, so I didn't come up with anything :(

some close ups

and a vertical version, because why not

[sm-baby]

Are you winning son?

no :'(

[utterlyhooked]

can you stop reposting gifs without credit please

Hey Nonnie, which one? Please point it out!

ETA: Barking up the wrong tree here Nonnie!

I received this today and was contemplating of whether to answer it or not. I thought, feck it, why not?!

I have been making GIF's and learning as I go along and I am still such a beginner but I was really proud of my latest post of LBFAD. I think it's my best yet (of those that I posted). The quality is still sub par compared to the ones made by GIF making gods here in tumblr but I was really happy with them especially because I am not techy.

here they are (my lastest 2 tumblr GIF posts) in one of my folders. For example, the one enclosed in red, the file size was too large so I had to lower the resolution so I could lower the file size hence there are 2 there. ETA: On my Despairing GIF post, for the subtitle/dialogue, I used DidactGothic font with font size 15, in white with no borders, and 100% opacity!

I removed the file names here because quite frankly, it's none of your business!

I tagged them as #cdramaedit, I thought that was enough. I was going to put #myedit but I thought it was hubris to put one on mine since the quality is not the greatest but I will now!... when I remember! I also wanted to put my mark on them but I did not like the fonts available so I didn't, but I will now!... when I remember!

Here's one example that I made today from LLTG, this is one of the favourite GIF's that I made. There's my mark on it now just so you know that I made it! MINE!

It is a series of 4 that I made back in late August - very early September. I have only used 2 of them in my posts. I use these as basis depending on what I need and edit - crop, add text, sharpen, adjust hues, brightness, contrast, saturation, etc... I have 46 GIF's in my LLTG Gif folder alone!

ETA: I was really happy with making GIF's and I can see my progress from really crappy gifs to the latest ones which I am very happy with. I have been teaching myself, exploring, and learning more, at my leisure, and enjoyed the journey so far. It's very relaxing. But now, I'm annoyed!

Since joining tumblr, I started making GIF's. I started with GIPHY and quite frankly they were crap! It was grainy, low resolution, but I still made them and posted some of them. The ones shown below are all made by me. I even attempted to put my mark on some of them. My GIF's might be crap, but they are my GIF's!

Afterwards I started using Kapwing which made my GIF’s slightly better but they changed their format (whatever you call it, I don't know!) so I looked for other ones. I started using another app especially in trimming videos (it doesn't compromise the resolution!) so I can make GIF's from them. I also found a better video downloader app which made a big difference for me. Another thing is that I found a new to me app that makes better GIF's in comparison to what I was using before.

Honestly, the one that I can think of is a post I made of The Untamed back in the last days of December 2021. Although, it's a GIF from tumblr showing who the original poster is and when it is clicked on, it opens a link to the original post. It also notifies the original poster. Is this what you are talking about? or are you talking about the cartoon reaction GIF's like Ursula from little mermaid?

Some part of my brain is saying that I should probably take this as a compliment, my latest GIF's are probably good enough to be compared to the great GIFs here in Tumblr. Maybe.

[chimchiri]

Different practice doodles

Ianthe ended up looking like she has a chicken leg arm. Yum!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Sublime Equine.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[curapicas]

labru be like "what if we spend the rest of our lives taking turns in infodumping and being unnerved by each other's special interests"

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader + cannibalism (😁)

heian era!sukuna loves breaking humans.

he has no trouble tearing them apart, either with his hands or his words. sometimes even his eyes are enough. humans are but feeble things, mere toys for his entertainment – and you are no different.

kneeling before him as he lounges on his throne, you stare up at him with big, wide eyes. your hands rest on your lap, your back straight as a log. you don't sniffle, nor do you tremble; the only thing that seperates you from the rest of them is the lack of fear. curiosity runs in your veins, mixing with adrenaline as you wait for his command.

that never comes.

sukuna rests his head on his hand, all of his four eyes strained on you while the corners of his lips tug up. it's rather unusual for him to get this much enjoyment out of a human – sure, their screams sound great and their flesh tastes good, but he doesn't love it. it's getting boring, they're all the same.

but the way you're looking at him is... exciting.

you want to do what he tells you but it's not the type of want all the servants share. oh, no – this is something different entirely. sukuna wonders whether you'd say no to him, whether you'd refuse him just for the sake of your own entertainment. your eyes are dark with playfulness – so far from horror, so far from devotion.

(it might be a kind of love nonetheless.)

he sees the twitch of your eyebrow – the tinge of impatiance and it only furthers his interest in you. what kind of a human are you? who are you to show the king anything other than ardor? why are you so comfortable with sitting before him? don't you know what he's capable of?

sukuna picked you himself. you stood in a line of humans with your head up high and your eyes glued forward. and you were nothing special until he and uraume made their way over to you.

you just couldn't help it.

your eyes flicked up to his and your cheek was immediately met with the palm of uraume's hand. a stinging pain bloomed under your skin, crawling further and further over your body as you let your head hang – you bowed and apologized, just the way you're meant to but sukuna saw it.

the smirk on your lips.

no tears, no sobbing. no shame.

oh, you just might be the one to break him instead.

sukuna's heartbeat is steady, his eyes glued to yours as he admires your pretty face. he thinks about how you'd look while crying, while bleeding. but for once, those are not his goals.

this time, he really does just want to play. to push you. to study you. to see what you are made of.

to see what you are.

his one hand raises from the throne and you don't flinch. sukuna reaches out, the tips of his fingers brushing over your plump lips ever-so-gently and you take a second to think about how soft his touch is. though his skin is rough and calloused, scars littered all across it – he handles you like you're made out of glass.

(but he likes breaking things, doesn't he?)

the room is dimly lit with only two big lanters hanging by the door. the dark, golden light dance on your king's face, the shadows caressing his face in a way that's making you jealous.

neither of you have spoken a single word since you walked through the big wooden doors. the only thing you can hear is your own heartbeat and the quiet hum that your king lets out when he makes contact with you. it feels... intimate.

he's still leaned back in the throne, his posture relaxed and his legs wide apart, giving you enough room to sit perfectly in the middle of them. you're closer than any of the other toys that have stepped a foot in this room and sukuna knows that if he were to tell you that, you'd beam. something in you would grow and if he's being honest, he wouldn't mind. he wants to see that. deep inside, he wants you to push him, too.

sukuna watches you flutter your eyelashes at him when his index fingers presses past your soft lips and meets the wet and warm inside of your mouth. he feels over your teeth, your sharp canines and lets out a pleased hum. heat takes over your whole body, from your throat to your ears, from the tips of your fingers to your toes. it's all over.

you hollow your cheeks and suck on his digit, letting pride flourish in your chest at the sight of your king's chest rising sharply from the new sensation.

"feed."

you think about it.

you think about your life. you think about what might come after this.

but none of it matters; do you really want to be another coward? why live at all if you're going to do it in fear? your king is going out of his way to offer you his hand. his body, and you're here contemplating it. he should strike you just for wasting time.

you are different.

sukuna feels your teeth settle between his second and third knuckle and he feels your tongue press up against the underside of the finger. his heart beats a little faster. will you? will you do it? will you take him? the second last more than one, the newly found excitement eating away at the king's intestines.

it wasn't a command. it wasn't.

you want to.

the gift sits heavy on top your awaiting tongue, your saliva coating it in desire. your eyes are dark and your pupils are blown wide, but the look is the same – tempting. playful. sukuna can't tell who's really in control now; is he doing this to you or are you doing it to him? is he doing it to himself or are you doing it to yourself?

and what is it exactly that you're doing in the first place?

pain shoots through sukuna's body, but he can't look away. blood trickles from the corner of your lips as you sink into him. you keep your gaze on him, never letting it sway because you need to watch him. you're feeding off of him in more ways than he even realizes.

iron fills your mouth and paints all your teeth a pretty maroon color. your thighs press together as you lean forward – silently asking for more.

sukuna doesn't care for scars, nor is he a stranger to pain but he should draw the line at pleasuring a human. but you're hungry, so why would he deny you when you're being so good for him?

nobody else has ever treated him this way, always so scared to do wrong by him but here you are – drawing blood from your king as if it's nothing. he feels you pull flesh from his bone and that on it's own is enough for him to know that he wants to keep you.

but when you pull back with your mouth and chin all covered in a mixture of his ichor and your saliva, and when you chew on his skin right there in front of him with a smile on your face... he knows it in his gut. you're the one for him.