#im dead with this love

[hinamie]

I don't want to regret the way I lived

[irhabiya]

another campaign brought to my attention by a palestinian i speak personally with, and i trust its legitamcy. Hamdy has suffered great loss since the start of this genocide, his mother, aunt, siblings, cousins, neices and nephews, and 5 month old sister were martyred. despite making the campaign months ago, Hamdy has only received FIVE donations so far, and hasn't gotten any donations in months.

please share and donate to his campaign, no amount is too little!

€95 / €10,000

tagging for reach

@terroristiraqi @shamemp3 @three-croissants @srdcovka @90-ghost @fairuzfan @mithli @7amaspayrollmanager @opencommunion @anti-democratic-russian-bot @tamamita @feluka @gabajoofs @aristotels @huzni @themeoflauramp3 @witchywitchy @ma3moul @khargooshe @womenintheirwebs @splashporpoise @flouryhedgehog @revindicatedbyhistory @german-milfs @breadmp3 @bassia-bassensis @anneemay @antiquititties @anyab

[scargvl]

Brokeback Mountain but it's Charthur

i drew these on an ipad, which is NOT my preferred tool at all, so don't mind it too much.

[diornies]

the worst friends in the world.

[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.

[just-a-small-menace]

Charles Rowland comparing him and his "platonic best friend" to Orpheus and Eurydice 0.002 seconds before saying he's not in love with him is truly just the most out of pocket moment

Like sir what kind of denial are you on and can i have some

[sorrelpaws]

WE CAN ONLY COUNT TO FOUR

[umblrspectrum]

"smaller mass" you say

[ickyyrus]

the cologne Carried me throughout the game😭

[ecstarry]

reg who had his first kiss at fifteen with a boy while on a summer holiday and all he has left is a little seashell the other boy gave him. and james whose heart stops everytime he sees a someone even slightly reseembling that boy until ten years later they meet once again at the same beach they did all those years ago. reg tells him he still has the seashall and james reaches for reg's curl and tucks it behind his ear just as he did when they were teens

[hinamie]

unconditionally

[arachnist]

what a fool

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

☠️☠️☠️

[afterthelambs]

In another (happier) world, I think Muhen would've been Akechi's Sojiro. Akechi would've lived above Jazz Jin just like how Joker lived above Leblanc. Muhen would've taught him how to make the drinks and close up at night. They would've bonded over music. And Akechi would finally have an adult looking after him. Because Muhen does care about him in-canon. He's the only character in the epilogue that mentions Akechi, he notices who Akechi spends time with, and he wishes to see him again.

It's so sad that Akechi assumes nobody cares about him or wants him around and yet this random jazz club owner does. Do you ever think about Muhen seeing Akechi at the Jazz Jin sometime in December, not knowing it would be the last time he ever would

[suntails]

GAME START