@aristarchos said: [PLUNGE] // pm @ lw ~
( BEACH/POOL STARTERS )
[PLUNGE] - sender scoops up the receiver in their arms and jumps into the water
Ling Wen laid stretched out in the shade by the pool , simply enjoying the break from work. It was a ritual ; she’d protest being dragged away , be dragged away , and then shortly after relax and enjoy herself. Such was it now as she folded her arms behind her head and allowed herself to completely relax and closed her eyes.
Which was probably exactly how Pei Ming managed to sneak up on the almost always alert goddess. Her eyes flew open when she felt herself suddenly lifted out of the chair and heard Pei Ming’s laugh next to her ear. A deep , familiar sound that , although it normally brought some level of a smile , only seemed to spell trouble in this instant. Her head snapped towards him.
“ Pei Ming ! Don’t - ! “ But her voice cut off after just a few words. The distance between the pool and her chair wasn’t far. Her words dissolved into a high pitched shriek as he jumped and the water rushed towards them as they fell. She managed a gulp of air before disappearing beneath the surface, flailing in a flurry of bubbles and shocked indignation as she broke the surface.
It was freezing. Even if it DID feel nice against her warm skin that the sun heat had been scorching , she wasn’t going to just say that.. Quickly she latched herself onto Pei Ming , her arms wrapping around his neck to clutch on as she gasped from the shock of the water. He was laughing. Smug bastard. She pushed a few strands of now wet hair from her eyes , not letting go of him.
“ I’m going to kill you. “ She huffs , turning her face away from him as she pressed her cheek to his shoulder , hiding the small smile on her face. For a few moments she just lingers like that. Her arms remained around Pei Ming , feeling the cold water chase away the heat of the day.
And then she promptly turned and tried to shove him under the water’s surface with a laugh of her own.
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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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when bakugou works out, he usually has earphones in. he likes to listen to music, usually, because people are irritating. but sometimes when he knows you’re likely to be free, just doing chores or running errands or lounging around, he calls you.
“hey katsuki,” you say. he won’t ever tell you, but he likes the way you say his name. he likes the feeling he gets hearing the warmth in your voice. only for him.
“hey,” he says back.
you never need prompting to begin chatting away. he does his cardio, weightlifting, to the sound of your voice in his ears. he turns the volume up because he’d rather hear you talk about your day, your dumb coworkers, what you’re planning on having for dinner, than listen to the ambient sounds of a gym, or worse—other people trying to talk to him.
(and maybe you look forward to these calls of his. maybe you enjoy the sounds of his exertion—the grunts, the heavy breathing. they remind you of… another type of exercise.)
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During the brainstorming phase of Cryptid Sightings (so so long ago,) one concept I was fiddling with was demonic cryptids couldn't enter sunlight. They simply can't exist in such brightness due to their nature, except for, of course, Eclipse aka Sun while possessing a vessel. I even had a scene in mind of Moon cornering some poor sucker cryptid at the crack of dawn after said cryptid threatened/harmed Y/N. The cryptid taunted Moon by saying how he couldn't get them now—they were in the sunlight.
And Moon smiled wide, black goo seeping from between the faceplate's teeth as he stepped into the morning brightness, the vessel shifting to bright yellows and reds, and now bearing a terrible grin of ink and teeth.
"Oh, but I can, friend."
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Vaggie: Alastor can you watch the eggs their being....eggs and I have to- just take them off my hands
Alastor: ooo i certainly will....
Vaggie:.....in a peaceful manner. Alastor.
Alastor: mmm well that's less fun, also why should I watch them?
Vaggie: well you're going to some meeting and I have to help charlie-
Alastor: didn't she excuse you from your duties for today?
Vaggie:...why would she- why would I ask for that??
Alastor: why, you have to come to this meeting to my dear!
Vaggie: no I dont?? It's an overlord meeting I'm not an overlord-
Alastor: but you are!
Vaggie: if anything charlie should probably be going with you rather then me- what what??
Alastor: I'll explain on the way! *just fucking leaves*
Vaggie: wha- alastor! Alastor I swear to the lord you better explain!
Alastor: hmmm, well you're an overlord my dear I don't think there's anything else TO explain
Vaggie: right...but I'm NOT an overlord??
Alastor: I beg to differ, I knew there was something off about you but couldn't place it until Charlie said something
Vaggie: Charlie- what does- okay you know what? You're insane. I'm going to go talk to Charlie myself!
Alastor grabs her shirt collar like a kitten: ah-ah-ah you have a meeting to attend my dear! It's be bad manners if you skipped it, whoch I suppose you've been skipping them for the past 5 or so years?
Vaggie: No, I haven't! and let go of my you asshole!
Alastor: hmmm no I don't think I will~ come on now! We're already half way there!
Vaggie: ugh, at least tell me how you and xharlie think I'm an overlord- which I'm NOT by the way!
Alastor: well...do you remember that sinner you saved? The one you had a slat with and ended uo teaching self defense?
Vaggie: how do you-....ah, charlie- what does that have to do with anything??
Alastor radio noise of displeasure: well, APPARENTLY they told more demons, you DO remember the large influx of demons who came to you right?
Vaggie: I.....I um....yeah....
Alastor: well they said they owed you 'favors' correct?
Vaggie:....fuck.
Alastor: they gave you their souls until said favor is called upon! You not using it has apparently given you the reputation of a very lenient overlord, a defensive and protective one at that! So more people cane to you, you trianed them in defense and most gave you their souls so you could call upon them for a favor at a time of your choosing!
Vaggie: going through the 5 stages of grief trying to process it all
Alastor: On top of that, the other overlords seem to be threatened by the fact you have so many souls and demons going to you WILLINGLY, you not showing up to meetings and beong little morningstars girlfriend doesnt help that either!So this will be a fun first meeting~
Vaggie: no no no no no nope! Alastor, you let me go right this second! I am not- no! Alastor! Alastor!!!
Zestial: Alastor and...oh the defensive Overlord nice to meet you again nd to finally meet you
Vaggie: ¿¡Quién diablos es esta araña joder!? (Who the hell is this spider fuck!?)
Part 1 | Part 2(here!!) | Part 3
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