#she is rare

[dumblr]

She's rare, handle her with care.

[yeesiine]

be good to her, she's rare.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

why aren't there more mysteries that take place in nursing homes & retirement communities. i want to watch a group of deranged retirees-cum-amateur-detectives combine their powers of:

decades of life experience

boredom-fueled busybody shamelessness

access to the most gossipy next-door-neighbors in existence

"I am too old to be arrested and/or give a shit" attitude

and solve crimes. this should be an enormous subgenre.

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Cassidy knows how to “help” Michael Afton

[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.

[hana-mural]

good afternoon

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

the realest man is Gotham is this random Blackgate guard who let Steph beat the everloving shit out of her dad for 10 full minutes no questions asked

from Robin #16 (1995)

[words-writ-in-starlight]

listen I expected literally Nothing from the D&D movie okay, like I can't make it clear enough that I expected the most soulless money grab with a good cgi budget imaginable, I went in having already gone through every stage of grief and landed on acceptance and LISTEN

I fucking CRIED during this dumb RPG movie. it wasn't just "not terrible" it was objectively good with a clever plot and compelling characters and sincere emotional beats. this movie loves D&D so fucking much and it NAILS the "a bunch of goobers try to be cool and accidentally discover The Power Of Friendship And Also Great Violence" classic D&D party vibe. their barbarian's last name is fucking Kilgore and my entire family cried in the theater.

I hope they make twelve of these motherfuckers.

[elfcollector]

I think I need to go to camp for a while. Be alone. Scream at the sky.

[astrolavas]

thinking about stringbean but Long

[tiffanyachings]

“Fiat lux! If you want to talk improbable, let’s talk about this”—a scrape of stone on stone—“being three thousand and some years older than this.” A heavy clunk.

“Inexplicable, Warden.”

“Certainly not. Like everything else in this ridiculous conglomeration of cooling gas, it’s perfectly explicable, I just need to explic-it.”

“Indubitable, Warden.”

“Stop that. I need you listening, not racking your brain for rare negatives. Either this entire building was scavenged from a garbage hopper, or I am being systematically lied to on a molecular level.”

“Maybe the building’s shy.”

“That is just tough shit for the building.”

[ponydoodles]

The mane six form a rainbow based on their coat colors, but with white instead of green. Would you mind drawing Rarity with a light green coat, darker green mane and tail, and gold eyes/magic/cutie mark to complete the rainbow?

I COMPLETELY AGREE!!! i am SUCH an advocate for rarigreen

[crunchycrystals]

this makes me want to cry

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girl found dead in a hidden room.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Sally is the real neighborhood Rizzler... you all know i'm right...

[decaffeinatedpartymuggoop]

Percabeth love story from Annabeth’s pov is so funny cause like.

In book 2, she’s thinking “oh, me and Percy will do the chariot race together. It’ll be so fun!” Only to have Tyson, who she doesn’t like at the time, third wheel her planned alone time.

Then you get to the 3rd book. Okay, we’re recruiting 2 new demigods. Their at a dance? Oh, me and Percy can dance. Have a nice romantic moment, maybe even confess.

He runs off to deflect from Thalia’s plan and she falls off a cliff.

We’re at BOTL now, Percy finally asked her out on a date. Well it’s not a date date but the point still stands. AND their seeing a movie. Perfect for a first not date.

He shows up with a red headed mortal. The school is on fire. The mortal, Rachel, writes her number on his arm.

Okay, okay, some failed attempts. Buts it’s all right. She still has more chances.

Nope, no she doesn’t. He’s in a volcano, he could die. She should probably do something before it’s too late. She kisses him and runs off, hoping he survives.

He doesn’t, oh wait he does. It’s been 2 weeks? Where was he? Oh, on an island? With who? CALYPSOS island? Your kidding.

Mhm, he hasn’t brought up the kiss. He want a mortal to led HER quest? Her first ever quest? Maybe she was reading into this wrong. Does Percy NOT like her?

Well, he must not. He spent the whole school year AND summer with Rachel. She kissed him, has spent the last 2 years trying to confess her undying love. He’s about to DIE. His souls is going to be REAPED. But he spends a year away from her. Oh yeah, there’s also a war going on.

A kiss for luck? Tradition? Okay, maybe she was freaking out for nothing. Percy likes her. She’s not gonna kiss him though. He spends a year away from her? He has to earn her affection, thank you very much. He won’t die, hopefully. She’ll kiss him then.

He’s not dead! They won the war! Yay, yippie, fire works. She gives him a kiss and they go underwater. Four years of hard work, but at least it paid off.