#meet and fuck.

[twinliches]

nearly had a medical emergency today because - and i cannot stress enough how little i am making this up - a helicopter landed in front of an open grain silo while i was getting off my ship and i am deathly allergic to the wheat that said helicopters rotor blades proceeded to blast in my face at full force. the cosmic forces are plotting against me ass situation to be in

[morganbritton132]

The funniest thing Stranger Things could do is reveal that Steve’s parents are like, really liberal. They donate to AIDs research. They were arrested protesting the Vietnam War. They campaigned for Mondale. Steve tells them that Nancy broke up with him and they’re like, “Thank god, that family believes in Reaganomics.”

[daisyblogsblog]

Want this fat ass on your co*k?...I'm here daddy 🤪

[lazylittledragon]

at the friday panel andrew wincott said raphael and astarion should go on holiday together and i can’t stop thinking about it

[thismission]

these two gossiping about their love lives is so fucking cute

bonus lucanis confirmed canonically having had a crush on viago!!!

[theballadofmars]

I love how mqf's oficial description is something like: a good heart who wants to help others but then you read the novel and his reaction to lqg trapping ten infected men who are crying in panic is "great now I can start to work in my experiments with decomposed people to find a cure" and gets out a lot of needles, which makes the man cry even harder.

Even if we only get bits of the other Cang Qiong sect leader's we can reach the conclusion that no one there is normal, sqq is just biased.

[allastoredeer]

Deer's shed the velvet on their antlers. Alastor is no exception.

Bonus! They also eat it and cannibal besties always share.

+Bonus: Bucks shed their velvet right before rutting season, so take from thar what you will

Follow up post ➡️HERE ⬅️

[zero-saber-sam]

everyone in the rap community @ drake rn

[pixlatedvampire]

It’s best to introduce your Hag slowly through the door first to not scare the others

[hardsongstranger]

I'm spun and horny now.

[looking-for-wisdom]

There’s something so important about dungeon meshi choosing falin to be their missing party member. She’s their healer. She is, in many ways, the most important member. She’s the one who ensures they all come home in one piece at the end of the day. So from a storytelling perspective, it makes sense that it would be her. It intrinsically raises the stakes by taking away the party’s ability to quickly heal.

But from a thematic standpoint it’s even more significant. Falin is the best of them. She holds them all together. There’s a reason why the party splits up when they lose her, after all. The only reason Laois and Marcille know each other is because of Falin, so by extension she’s the only reason their party exists the way it does.

There’s something almost divine about the way she’s characterized by her friends. They talk about her kindness, think of what she’d do if she were with them. You never hear anyone speak poorly of her. Everyone else has flaws. Laois struggles to connect with others, Chilchuck can’t admit when he cares, Marcille refuses to be wrong, and Senshi is very stuck in his ways. None of these are necessarily a bad thing. It just makes them complex people. But Falin is almost more of an idealized concept than a person.

And then we see Falin on screen, a mess of bones and viscera. We see her put back together with forbidden magic, her new body soaked with blood. We see that there’s something off about her, that alongside her kindness is incredible power. And everything up until that point reframes itself. Falin has always been part monster, from her compassion for the dead to her magic school hideout in a dungeon. She dies and comes back, not just changed but amplified. She’s a healer, a ghost, a monster, all tucked beneath the same skin.

[rosemarytrash]

i MISSED this pen

[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.

[lovebunnie]

“i love being aromantic” i say as i feel my chest cavity rotting from the inside at the unquenchable desire for love in a way that is truly a secret third thing but its not a secret i want to keep it is a secret nobody is willing to listen to and im trapped in a state of isolation of my own making because no matter how much love i have to give it will never be enough. it will never be enough. it will never be enough.

[valictini]

I’ve already said it, I’ll say it again, Mal du Pays is such a visceral and clever word to describe Siffrin’s Sadness. When I first saw it in game it genuinely made me pause like. Yes, it translates to homesickness. But it has the literal word for country in it. “Country sickness”. For a guy whose core problem is that his childhood, his culture, his country is missing. One could argue it’s a twisted pun. I’m obsessed with it.

[apollognese]

"I was supposed to die..."