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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Though he’d promised Aziraphale his attention, his head was turned towards a screen on his right, and the angle of his camera suggested the phone was tucked at the base of his keyboard and monitor. Aziraphale was actually grateful for it; Crowley’s momentary distractedness gave him the time to recover from the sight of him dressed up so professionally.
“I, er— yes. I need your help though.”
Crowley turned to him suddenly, leaning in close and grinning like a shared secret.
Big Name Feelings • 3. Speeding Up
i am so at peace. 5 hrs totally zenned out on these colours. i'm gonna see his face in my dreams 🥰
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?Want a break from the ads? If you tap now to watch a short video you'll get 30 minutes of ad free music! Yes, really! If you tap now you'll get 30 minutes of ad free music! So what are you waiting for? I'm still waiting.. Why aren't you tapping? Don't you want 30 minutes of ad free music? If you tap now and watch the short video you'll get 30 minutes of ad free music! It's that easy! If you want to be free from the ads forever considerIf it doesn't work for you, then you're using it wrong. Make sure you're using EVERY single filter. If you are currently, then de-select them and make sure they're updated and re-enable them. IT WILL WORK. There's no "it won't work" when you do this. It's either a 1 or a 0. Either a yes or no. Either a "it will work" or an "I am not using the adblocker correctly".
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fionna's world being represented by a dandelion makes so much sense ... they're weeds. yet people make wishes through them, changing their whole meaning from something meant to be destroyed to something hopeful.
dandelions are also resilient and it makes sense that something associated with them would. you know. perservere despite the destruction caused by the scarab.
but ultimately i think what REALLY made me tear up over this is that dandelions are really boring plants. when you're a kid you blow on them and make your wish but they're not eyecatching or anything but still, fionna's final wish was for her old world to still exist as it was when she left it (> plain and simple. boring even).
like the moment she realized she would lose her friends, and that her friends might forget each other if the world got its magic back, she immediately decided she didn't want it and I think that ties back to the dandelion metaphor so well... like, do you really need magic to be real to find it everywhere? or can you turn something boring into something magical?
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You’re a soap girlie? Ok let me hit you with my headcanons abt him.
He would totally be the guy to cum in u and eat you out afterwards sorryyy those are the rules😽
The guy to eat you out, not for your pleasure, but for his. Okayy… so what if you already came thrice…? He’s not done with his meal.
He would absolutely take you doggy, then put a thumb in your ass as leverage to bounce you back on him.
If he’s horny, he’s horny. No waiting until y’all get home. You’re doing it in the bathroom at McDonald’s for all he cares😔💔
(gn!reader, mdni 18+)
I AM AND YOU FED ME SO GOOD WITH THESE!!!!!!! RAUGHHHHH
i love feral soap. soap who can't wait? soap who just has to have you? urgh making me go feral as well ;)
soap definitely chooses to cum inside of you. not just because he likes to mark you and flood your insides, but because he just can't get enough of your face when you take all he has to give you. you were already looking so fucked out for him before but now? the way your eyes roll back as he pumps in load after load into you drives him absolutely crazy. he loves that expression so much that it makes him want to give you another. and when he pulls out to see it seeping down your legs, between your thighs, to the sheets? oh my god he's kissing your gaping hole that's just been abused by his cock. because he can't get enough of the mess and wants to thank it by kissing it. gives you lots of praises as he basically eats it out of you.
and adding to that, you're so right. have you ever been wrong, anon? at least once in your life? because soap loves watching the way you clench around him, anything he gives you. so it's even better if his face is down there already to watch the way you squeeze down on his fingers and tongue. loves the way you taste, especially when covered in his cum. starts to get a little cocky and goes "this is just how good we are together, baby <3" and feasts on you like you're his favorite taste. would happily stay on his knees if it means that he gets to stick his tongue so deep inside you're wondered in your fucked out state if he put his cock in you again.
rrrrrr and doggy? you wonder if he's gone into heat by the way he grunts behind you as he slams his hips against your ass. loves the way it bounces against him, can't stop himself from leaving a couple handprints on it. he drags your hips back onto him to meet his thrusts but it's not enough for him. he can't stop slapping your ass but needs to take you so hard. so deep! needs to mold you into his shape so you think about it for days until he does it again. so his only solution is to slap a hand over your cheek and grab as much of your ass as he can to pull you back into him. thumb playing with your asshole and dipping in a couple times as he takes you.
he's probably doing this in a public bathroom, yea </3 absolutely could NOT wait for you guys to make it home. not even to the car. he pulled you away first chance because you get embarrassed when you notice how hard he is in public! man has no shame, he's never embarrassed to admit how much he wants to fuck you. so you're probably bent over somewhere as he continues to just rail you. if you're not too keen on making noise, he has to bite into your shoulder to hide his moans. terrible. he's terrible, makes you look like you were attacked by a savage animal. and he just keeps pounding and pounding away, sometimes grinding into you so fast and deep because you said his hips are making too much noise against youe wet hole
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You can't tell me our main man Jim, Jim Kirk, James Kirk, James T Kirk, James Tiberius Kirk, CAPTAIN stack of books on legs James Respectful and Sensitive Tiberius Kirk does not know about Vulcan hand touching and their significance.
This man. JAMES KIRK. Looked at Spock, clearly vulcan spock, hands firmly planted behind his back Spock. LOOKED him up and down, and despite absolutely knowing it would not be considered impolite if he didnt offer a hand shake, looked at Spock, tall drink of water Spock, Vulcan sensitive hands used as terms of affection Spock, and was like hmmmm absolutely will make this Vulcan shake my hand. AND SPOCK gave like 1 second of thought before he was like yes absolutely here is my hand to hold for you and you only. I AM DECEASED
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