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.
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There are a few things to do if your computer is not strong enough to efficiently run Nightshade and Glaze, or if you are still waiting to get a Web Glaze account.
Artshield
Artshield is another web-based and free tool to watermark your art and help protect your art against AI-training. It might not be as strong as Glaze and Nightshade, but it is quicker. It is also constantly being worked on, and sometimes might not be able to shield certain pieces of art, but you can help it by making sure the art you're submitting doesn't have a whole lot of pure white in the image.
They also have a section on the website where you can check and see if your Shopify has been used to train AI programs. They are also currently working on being able to scan Etsy.
Artshield Website
Artshield Twitter
Post your art at a lower resolution.
It may make the art grainier, but posting art a smaller resolution with a 72 dpi can also help.
Watermark your art
Post any and all art with a watermark of your name and/or handle and the year.
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MC/Angel relaxing with Fox Ren giving him all the smooches and cuddles~!!! Or daily life with Redacted with MC/Angel as a house spouse teehee~!!!
Kinda sorta combined them oopsies teehee <3 <3 da best fluffy boi
14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI
~Literal Domestic Fluff~
You’d been busy since Ren left to patrol the territory early that morning. With him out of the way, cleaning up was admittedly easier. The kitchen was spotless, paw prints in the hallways scrubbed away, and the laundry almost finished. A scant few linens fresh from the dryer lay in the basket at your feet, one being carefully folded as you lounged in your favorite window seat to bask in the setting sun.
You paused to bring the warm fabric up to your face. The pleasant floral scent of the detergent was nice, but nothing compared to the fresh mountain air you’d finally gotten used to over the months. You opened the window all the way to let in a breeze.
Something immediately felt different, almost relaxing about the faintly cool air flowing past. It took a moment to realize the real source of the calm that washed over you.
A familiar presence was running through the sparse trees that lined the farthest edge of the garden. Before you could even call their name, he was making leaps and bounds on pink-toed paws to cross the short expanse of greenery between you. In a matter of seconds the ethereal fox morphed into a shape closer to human as they approached, though the tails and ears stayed in place. He came to a skittering halt outside the window.
“Angel!” Ren excitedly spoke as he reached up to you, a sparkle to his pale blue eyes.
You dropped the blanket and leaned over the window sill to take hold of his outstretched hand, placing a quick kiss to his forehead for good measure. For once, you were the one towering over him—if only by a few centimeters. “Hi, Ren,” you said with a smile.
His excitement only seemed to intensify at your affections. Nine fluffy tails began to wag in delight while you carded your other hand through his hair. “I missed you.”
“Really? I couldn't tell,” you teased, waving away a couple stray leaves and flower petals from his pointed ears. “I missed you, too.”
Your bonded partner immediately flushed pink at your response, then something caught his attention that made his nose wrinkle. “Are you okay? Was it too cold while I was gone?”
You weren't sure what he meant until you followed his gaze to the disheveled blanket next to you on the cushioned seat. You shook your head to calm him down. “Just doing laundry.”
He was hesitant to accept your answer, but the second kiss you pressed to his lips seemed to distract him well enough. Ren stood up straighter, determined to make it last as long as possible. Shivers ran up your spine when his fingers carefully settled along the base of your neck to keep you steady.
Though you weren't quite finished, you were forced to pull away and breathe. “Hmm, maybe I am a little cold. We should—hey!” you suddenly laughed, gently pushing them back. He was practically crawling through the window to reach you at the mere suggestion of cuddling. “Let me finish up, okay? Just a few minutes. And use the front door.”
His ears fell flat in embarrassment as he nodded and settled down. No longer crowding the window, but still on his toes to better see what you were doing.
You took your time folding the blanket and what was left in the basket. It was hard to ignore the focused gaze of the man, nor the way he noticeably perked up once you finished folding something, only to pout at the next piece of fabric you grabbed. With a little less willpower you would've abandoned the laundry far sooner to give them all of your focus.
Eventually, you had a neat and tidy pile of sheets to put away. A quick peek from the corner of your eye in their direction was enough to alert him. He bolted from the window in an instant, just for you to hear him loudly sprinting through the villa’s many hallways seconds later. There was barely any time to stand up before you were scooped up in their arms.
He nuzzled into your neck with an almost desperate sigh as he mumbled, “I’m sorry I was away for so long, beloved.” You could faintly feel his teeth nipping at the skin above your collarbone. “Y’smell different.”
“Huh? Oh.” You made a mental note to find a scentless laundry detergent on your next outing into town. Maybe it would bother him less.
The warmth of his silky tails enveloped you, barely tickling you when they brushed back and forth over your form. As he carried you from the room, tucked safely close to their chest, you happily gave them the attention they’d been waiting for.
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Dress me up, make it tight, I'm your dolly
You're my doll, rock'n'roll, feel the glamour in pink
Kiss me here, touch me there, hanky panky~
Inspired from This post of @just-dol-headshots and this ask from @hakusins. Don't worry I'm still aiming for your ass Haku-Dean :) References and something under the cut
We all have to agree Bully Robin should have some softer and caring sides. When there's only them two and no one else is around to judge, he can let loose and slip back into that kinda of "Original Robin" we know and I love. I mean, that's what JDOLH made that got me into these swap messes from the beginning jsjkhskjhd you knowww the HUG!!
Reference: Barbie Girl (Aqua) and this cute ecchi Clamp Chobit piece
All in all I'm a pink bietch and Dollya won't be losing her V-card anytime soon that I can promise so hang in there okay mr.Bully.
edit: OMG THIS IS MY 1000TH POST TTOTT)) JKSDJLASKJKDLA
SELF-INDULGENT HERE WE GO
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This right here.
To all the people yelling how cringe that scene was (um excuse me it was gorgeous). You really missed the overall meaning behind it other than- 'why suddenly a shiny merman wtf'
In Stede’s dream, someone who wanted a life fraught with adventure. Someone who was bullied and ridiculed for being a soft, prim, weak man who never belonged his whole life, Stede visions himself as a bearded, very-masculine squashbuckler who cuts down his foes without fear and claims the love of his life without fail. This persona is something he feels he needs to be to achieve this because being himself he feels he's always been a failure. No one wanted 'Baby Bonnet who picked flowers'.
In Ed's dream, someone who wants to be himself and leave the mask of the Blackbeard persona behind, someone who enjoys the idea of touching delicate things and dressing in 'fine linens', Ed sees Stede in his dream like this for this reason. As the soft, pretty, quirky and kind person decorated in shiny silks is who he feel in love with. Someone so loving he's as rare as the sight of a mermaid. No one else is like Stede to Ed. He is especially RARE for someone on the sea. He's the only person who saw Blackbeard for 'Ed' and even encouraged him to be himself, not the legendary icon people saw him.
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