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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Man I adore tormenting dottore as my love language :3
cw: kinda dark? zandik accidentally hurting us because he's hallucinating (IM NOT AN EXPERT I just think it's like. Very realistic if this were to happen)
Anyways, I like to think that Dottore came from a... Rather unpleasant home, and then especially burned his home town along with everyone who has cursed him (except for you ofc)
Still, the memories hasn't left him. It's not like he could, no matter how much he buries himself in his research. Zandik can't heal when he pretends that it's all fine and that dwelling into such emotions would be a waste of time. This proved to be more prominent during his younger days...
One day, I could just imagine, you come home to your shared dorm, all preppy and smiles because you're finally gonna spend time with the love of your life! Only to see absolute ruin of your dorm—everything was a mess, papers strewn every where, couch flipped, drops of his blood on the floor. You panic, wondering if the Matra finally raided your home to arrest Zandik, then you heard him yell—in your bedroom. You run towards it, frantically, and stupidly.
You should've assessed the situation more. Took a deep breath and calmed your mind—but you were striken with anxiety and fear, and when you shouted "what happened here!?" "What did you do!?" at him, you were quickly met with pain you've never felt before.
He had burned you with a torch, and now you're on the ground, writhing and screaming in hellish pain, cradling the parts of your body that was burnt to a crisp. You see him grinning at you, eyes full of satisfaction and malice.
You thought that this was what he wanted all along, that everything was a lie and he just used you for all your worth, and now that he has nothing to use you for, he has decided to kill you.
But you then hear him shout: "Are you proud of me? I've become the monster you've always told me that I am."
Quickly, you realize that he hadn't meant to hurt you.
The scars stayed, much to Zandik's dismay. After treating your injuries, he has resorted to ignoring you for the next couple of days, being mean and insulting you.
Just be patient with him, you know that he cares. And that he's absolutely crushed that he has hurt you, of all people. He didn't mean it, but now you've got painful scars that will ache for a life time, all because of him. All because he was stubborn to heed your concerns. He wanted to burn the past, he really did. To forget and move on. He hated his childhood so much that he's willing to just let it burn into ashes... But he didn't realize if he tried, he'd burn you along with it.
You see him open his mouth whenever he tends your healing wounds, but then close it, biting his bottom lip to keep it from trembling. You see him read books all about treating burn wounds, cook you meals, ignoring his research all for you—his hands shook, eyes dark though glassy. You know he wants to apologize, but then his eyes goes to your scars, sucks in a deep breath, glares at you and walks away.
He's really doing his best to push you away
Zandik cares so much that he wants you to leave him, hate him, for being who he is, for being what he is. But no, you're smiling so softly and reassuring him that you're fine. That it's not his fault, that he didn't mean it.
And he'd yell he did mean it, that you were just lucky to survive (as if he hasn't lost sleep and progress on his research just to tend to you).
It wasn't his fault, you urged.
You remember it all vividly. Zandik knocking frantically at your home, houses ablaze behind him, his body littered with cuts and bruises. People were carrying torches and pitchforks, makeshift weapons and screaming at Zandik to just leave—and with out much thought, you grabbed as much as you could from your room and ran away with him.
You knew he finally snapped that day. Took matters in his own hands... He never talked much about it, but you could assume what happened. And you were certain he had confronted his parents before it all went to shit.
He wasn't trying to hurt you. He never did, and he would never want to hurt you. You were the exception and will always be, he would rather let the world cave in than letting you bleed by his hands. Zandik was lost in his thoughts, drowning in unpleasant memories and his eyes deceived him—he thought you were someone else, and he wanted to hurt them, not you.
JGJGOFHFJDSJS yeah that, he most definitely probably cry in your arms talking about how much he hates ur scars bc he gave them to you...
I would add more BUT IM LITERALLY IN CLASS AND MY PROFESSOR IS LECTURING HELP OKAY BYE SMOOCHES ILY /P HAVE A GOOD DAY CKCBXKCBDJ
Sorry for this I just like. Exploring struggles and menta shit KBcjcjc
MOOT WHAT IS THIS... WHY ARE YOU HURTING US LIKE THIS my JAW WAS DROPPED THE WHOLE TIME 😭😭 Okay but real. I have two hcs when it comes to Zandik's parents - they were the only ones who loved him but they died when he was really young, or they really just hated him. I've also heard others say "Zandik" can be used as an insult too? I don't know how true that is though. But yeah I think the latter is more likely to be true unfortunately 💔 Even if they were nice to him it wouldn't be enough to counter a whole town's worth of hatred towards him... yup yup the village definitely got burned down to the ground.
One would think that he wouldn't be affected. But he wasn't Dottore yet. He was merely Zandik at this point. He couldn't just shrug it off and go about his day. He pondered. He thought. He felt. He was still more human, more feeling than he wanted to admit, and he absolutely hated it. Still, he didn't regret it, but the memories would simply not leave his head. It was wholly bothersome. After all, not too long ago he was merely a little boy... a little boy who was deemed a monster, a demon child. All the people, even his own parents who accused him were gone now yet... their voices still rang clear in his head. And of course you had no clue, because Zandik would never speak about his feelings under any circumstance.
OUCHHHH HOW CAN I EVEN WRITE THE NEXT PART?? I CAN'T WRITE IT AS GOOD AS YOU oh gosh I WILL TRY. Ah... coming home to your shared dorm. Thinking it's going to be another regular, good day with you and your lover. But it's not, and when you see your home ransacked of course the first thing that goes through your mind is if your Zandik is okay. Of course you you rush to him and beckon him to tell you what happened as anyone would do. Of course you try to reach out to him. And of course, you didn't expect to be licked with flames by your lover's own hand, not only is your body crying out in pain but so is your heart - did Zandik really not care for you after all of these years? The only one who you treasured above all else... perhaps he never viewed you more than a pawn. But then you hear those few words that make you realize what's truly going on - ah, you understand now.
The logical part of Zandik knew that the scars would remain, but the illogical part of him hoped (to think he was even capable of that) badly that they wouldn't. You wonder what his expression was when he was tending to your wounds - you were asleep at the time - but even if you had seen it you probably wouldn't be able to put it into words... it was expressionless yet also not at the same time. He looked empty, and unfeeling, yet he looked the opposite too. And perhaps you wouldn't believe how tenderly he treated your wounds, from the way he's giving you the cold shoulder now. You wouldn't know the way his hands shook the whole time because he did that to you. The one person who would never, who should have never faced his anger, his wrath. It's all his fault, there's no denying that, he hurt you and now you're going to be hurting for the rest of your life too. The last person, no the only person who he doesn't want to see hurt.
Even now, Zandik doesn't understand you. How the fuck are you more calm about this than he is. He hurt you. He burnt you and he meant it and yet in the aftermath, there's not a hint of resentment on your face and he doesn't understand - he hates it so much, you should hate him, in fact it'd make him feel better if you did because how can you even begin to like him a tiny bit after what he's just done, he's claimed to love you and even in that twisted mind of his he knows that's not what lovers do. He doesn't understand why you haven't packed your bags and moved to another dorm by now, hell why do you try to usher him to bed because "lack of sleep is bad for him" what actually goes through your mind...? What went through your mind when you decided to leave with him too? The villagers weren't after you, just him, you could have had a normal life, but you still decided to go with him... you two had no plan, no money, no real necessities but you gave up everything for him anyway. Sigh...
Ouch... i feel like at some point you would just accept your scars but Zandik? Haunts him more than he wants to admit. Don't get me wrong he still thinks you're beautiful but... you know what I mean. Mhm... imagine the child segment asking you where/how you got the scars from and at the moment you make up the most ridiculous lie because that's all your brain can think of because there's no way you're telling the baby that Prime did it. Oh and the angst if Dottore hears that convo :(
Okay... moving on from that angst... PLS You're hella brave for being on tumblr in class, I'm too scared to open it or write fics in general in fear of someone seeing 😭 Once I accidentally opened my blog on my laptop and I closed the tab at LIGHT SPEED. ILY TOO KAI I HOPE YOU'RE DOING WELL!! ❤️❤️❤️
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What if
I wanted to rant about Electra
And did
Okay a lot of this ranting is just made up nonsense! ( Obv based off the musical itself ) I'm rewriting the musical to my tastes and would like to actually discuss the characters more than the musical is able too. This is more like a TV show set-up to be honest.
Okay main point I want to get out of the way. Electra is an antagonist. But he SUCKS at being a antagonist- for rusty. I genuinely don't remember any times he actually addresses rusty that's like actually important. He's really just a driving force against greaseball. He seems way more upset about diesel than steam. Though to be fair, he seems so confident in himself I doubt he's worried about some kid who's just kinda there.
Because Electra just appears. Unlike rusty and greaseball who are established to know each other. Electra literally just APPEARS. He's not part of the nationals. He wasn't even originally entered into the race. He just appears. And is here now. And he just wants to show off and beat the previous champion. Why would he acknowledge the steam engine who has no chance???
He doesn't even do anything outwardly malicious. I mean he listens to Red Caboose's plan and doesn't really mind that they cheat. And uhm. I guess he goes with pearl but she consented and willingly did that so it's not .. the worst. And he sometimes electrocutes people. But really most of the musical he just stands next to rusty and greaseball fighting while like " :/ " or just flirting with the components or something I don't know.
Of course this doesn't change the fact he's an asshole. He's apathetic and very naive honestly. He only cares about himself, and has tantrums like an actual toddler. He doesn't even ask out the pretty girls himself he has his accountant/security guy do that lmao. He's obviously not a guy used to doing anything himself. Or used to losing. And is just generally annoying to anybody who meets him. But he's probably the *most* redeemable of the three antags. In of which. Idk I feel like just having him live at the Apollo-Victoria for a few years or something would help just get him out of his stupid attitude hfhdbdb
A little bit indulgent perhaps. But i feel like in a episodic setting Electra would probably lose some of his apathetic tendencies. Not all of them- he's a computer. And he'll always be self centered and care a lot less about others feelings than most. But I could truly see him befriending Rusty, pearl, maybe even Dinah. Though I don't know if he'd ever get along with greaseball... Give it like 20 years... Maybe more... A lot of time.
But I truly think with the right circumstances he could just be??? A confident guy who is a bit inconsiderate?? Probably still whiny because you can't take the diva out of Electra but y'know what I mean.
Even MORE indulgent. I want a Dustin and Electra friendship SO BAD YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. These two are like. Opposites. But in the way that I just feel like they would help each other SO MUCH RAAAH. Electra is confident but struggles with empathy?? Dustin is overly empathetic and very insecure?? THEY COULD HELP EACH OTHER SO MUCH AAAA. Ok ok I need to stop with that.
But essentially I just think that Electra is this young guy. Like really young. He's one of the ( potentially, the youngest ) youngest people in the cast. Only a few years in service and he's already got a horrific ego. Just because he is TRULY good at racing. Can't take that from him. Even if he's very late. Like. Really late to the entry. But I just think he's this young guy who kinda threw himself into the wrong situation. Probably not realizing that messing with Caboose is a horrible idea. And that he was unknowingly racing against gods favorite so. oops.
Ok anyway I should shut up now ok I like Electra he's cool but he's a horrible antagonist but I love him and this probably is really hard to read (^∇^)ノ♪
Oh also why does nobody ever use his hypnotism powers. He has those. Are- are we going to ignore that-?? Ok...
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Hi 👋🏽 I’ll be going on an indefinite break that may (or may not) be for good.
Writing fanfiction was an escape for me these past 2 years. It was a way to express my love for the tannies in how I wrote them as comfort characters, and it was a way for me to make sense of my own experiences and emotions. These fics have always been very personal, with a bit of me in every OC, my pains reflected in their stories, and words I wish someone told me growing up expressed in the dialogues. And I’ll always be so thankful that many of you related with them, found meaning in them, and found comfort in them. That will always be my favorite part 💜💜 stories are so powerful! They’ve allowed me to connect with so many people and make memories in this (mostly) lovely part of the site.
But the process of writing has also been draining, not as cathartic as it used to be, and not as fulfilling. So much as I find myself going back and forth with the numerous stories in my drafts, I can’t bring myself to continue with them. Not anytime soon, at least. Maybe one day the itch to write will be so intense, or JJK1/KTH1 drops and I’ll lose my shit (Untitled and Belong were born out of Indigo and D-day after all), or after rereading my stories, I’ll miss writing so much. The thing is, I’ve never loved BTS as much as I do right now; perhaps I’m content with screaming about that love to myself in the meantime.
I’ll be lurking around here, maybe pop in every once in a while (so plagiarists, keep off my work, pls). My stories will remain here as your comfort 😌 and I’ll do my best to put out the PLM drabbles I promised! Other than that, all the stories are complete for you to enjoy (sorry to those waiting on TLA 😔 I hate that I’m unable to continue). I also have Twitter (jmimi_mi). I’m also just a lurker but say hi if you want! 😊 we can talk bts and fics and whatnot over there (I’ll try, I promise).
Please give love to the authors who are still lovingly putting out work for the community! 🥰
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