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 You Accidentally Kill a Clown pt. 2
Pt. 1 Ao3
I couldn't let the brain rot die
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Breath Danny, this is all fine. This was however not fine. Danny stared, mouth agape, food untouched, as The RED godamned HOOD sat across from him tearing into a burger and fries. The man had taken off his helmet and almost sent Danny into a panic before seeing he had another mask underneath. Which, honestly, shouldn’t be surprising, from what Tucker’s told him these bats are hella secretive and have an insane amount of contingencies. He thought back to the time when Tucker had tried installing similar plans in case of emergency, which mostly fell through after like two attacks. Only a few plans survived and receive semi-regular upkeep.
“Dude you gonna eat that or what?” Danny was pulled from their thoughts by the vigilante sitting across from them. Right, that. As a response they lifted a couple fries to his mouth and Ancients these are good. Hood let out a chuckle at whatever face Danny had pulled, before his voice turned a bit more serious.
“So how’d you come across the Joker? Much less put a crater in his gut?” Ah, so this was an interrogation, Danny can do an interrogation. He swallowed a few more fries before responding.
“Um, well, I was just walking back to my dorm, and the guy jumped out of an alley and grabbed me. He started talking about the Waynes and… some other stuff. So I panicked and then he was dead.” Danny trailed off, stuffing the burger in his mouth to avoid talking more. And if it weren’t for his nerves this burger would have tasted amazing, but at this moment it was just a burger.
Hood nodded, “And the smoking crater? Are you a meta or something?” And there was the question Danny constantly thinks about because yes, technically he would be considered a meta, after all his dad and his sister both have the gene so it would be so easy to explain away his powers like that. But it felt so much like a lie. Like he was denying the fact of his true nature. But Danny also really didn’t feel like explaining the complexities of ghosts at whatever Ancients forsaken time it is, to the Red Hood, over a burger and shakes. So he nodded, gesturing flippantly with his hand in a vague either or motion.
Hood looked weary but took the answer nonetheless. “I took care of the body and called some friends. Do you mind if I tell them who did it or would you like to keep it under wraps?” He said, leaning back in the booth.
“Umm,” Danny ducked his head and dropped his hand to his lap, “I’d rather not have my name or face publicized, if that's alright.” Hood Hmm’d in agreement before tilting his head to one side, A smile smile tug at the corner of his lips which, if Danny wasn’t under an intense amount of stress right now, would actually be kind of cute.
“Speaking of,” Hood said, his tone shifting to something Danny couldn’t detect, “I don’t believe I got your name.” and that’s a lie, Danny had told him in the alley way. But then, Hood had been in a bit of shock so maybe he forgot?
“It’s Danny,” Danny said again, a bit more sure this time, “Danny Fenton.” He paused for a moment before tacking on “ He/ they” and holding out his hand for Hood to shake.
That smile on the vigilantes face grew more as he took Danny’s hand, “Hood, he/him. Pleasure to make your acquaintance” was that a wink? It was hard to tell with the domino mask, but did RED HOOD just fucking wink at them.
“So how old are you Danny? You said you were heading back to your dorm, are you a student?”
It took a few moments for their brain to catch up before Danny replied, “Yeah, I just turned 20, I’m starting my first semester at Gotham U in a couple days. I’ve uhh,” Danny ducked his head again, reaching to rub at the back of his neck, “I’ve only actually been in Gotham for like three days.” he muttered sheepishly. Looking back up at Hood through his bangs.
“You’ve only been in Gotham for for three days,” hood whispered to himself, his brows drawing together in confusion, “And you killed the Fucking Joker???” He half shouted, incredulously.
Danny’s Head shot around scanning the dingy burger joint, no one seemed to have noticed. Hood looked apologetic, then a war of emotions fluttered across his face before that smile, that Danny had now decided is definitely cute (Cause that’s not a lot to unpack), crept its way back onto the man’s face.
“So what do you study?” Hood asked, resting his chin on his hand and tilting his head just slightly.
Danny fought the blush threatening to creep up their face because no, no this serial killer crime boss is not cute you absolute idiot. And instead they launched into an explanation of how theyŕe majoring in Aerospace engineering and Astronomy, because this is his obsession and he could talk about his obsession all day if he could.
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Jason stared at the man before him, excitedly explaining a bunch of star stuff that, to be honest, he didn’t really understand. But this man was so goddamn cute. Danny apparently is the kind of person that talks with their hands when they get excited, because the wild gestures they were making only managed to captivate Jason more.
The two talked for almost another hour before Jason had to drop them off at their dorm because, “You almost got murdered once tonight and you got lucky, I’m going to escort you home whether you like it or not.” before returning to his patrol route.
He made a mental note while he was beating up a potential mugger, to look into this Danny Fenton, to maybe meet in civvies, because there is no way Jason is going to lose this guy.
Pt. 3
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Imagine: going to a Garden centre/Plant Nursery with Miguel O’Hara
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🕷 - No I don’t care if this is stupid. Yeah I just got back from a garden centre when writing this.
🕷 - They are so much fun, I don’t care if it’s a bit old person of me.
🕷 - This man is willing to do old people stuff with you.
🕷 - Your both wandering around and he keeps stopping to look a grills because it’s,,, he’d totally yearn for a grill. It’s a feeling. But he always moves on because he’d get angry at himself for wanting something domestic like that.
🕷 - He pushes around the cart.
🕷 - No get off he’s doing it.
🕷 - He will follow you, just get what you want babe.
🕷 - He’s not a plant guy, he’s never been a plant guy. But in this scenario you are DEFINITELY a plant person. So when you ask to go together he starts the car in a heartbeat.
🕷 - It’s like a little date.
🕷 - He always comes prepared. If you go in the spring or summer then you’ll definitely feel the heat.
🕷 - It hits him way harder, he’s much more sensitive in every way, so he sweats a lot more. Awooga.
🕷 - He’s got water on hand if you get thirsty. Your welcome babe.
🕷 - There are always people with dogs EVERYWHERE in these places. Watching you love on every dog you pass by makes him want to get a puppy.
🕷 - He acts like a cat, but I feel like he’s secretly a dog guy really deep down, you know.
🕷 - Every dog is obsessed with him, even if he shows no interest in petting them. it drives you up the wall.
🕷 - If anyone runs their cart into you he will beat ass.
🕷 - If anyone speaks to you disrespectfully he will beat ass.
🕷 - He is literally ready to beat so much ass at any given moment. Just because he’s nice to you doesn’t mean he’s like that with everyone else.
(I literally checked those 3 paragraphs multiple times to make sure I spelt ‘beat’ right.)
🕷 - His main personality trait is carrying heavy things for you.
🕷 - He doesn’t mind if you wanna peruse a bit… it’s ok since it’s you. He one of those people that will literally go with whatever. If your happy then he’s happy.
🕷 - He hardly gets time away from work. And his ‘night gig’ takes up a lot of his time too. Between all that and The Society… that doesn’t leave a lot of time for you. It makes him feel really guilty, So he is completely willing to do or buy whatever you’d like.
🕷 - He doesn’t understand why you keep trying to save wilting and dying plants. Why would you pay full price for a half dead orchid when there’s dozens of healthy ones right next to it??
🕷 - He doesn’t mind paying for it but he wants you to have the best. >:(
🕷 - When you both get home he’s reminded of why you do it.
🕷 - Your home is full of heathy, happy plants, nurtured by your loving hands. It’s a statement of the kind of person that you are. Full of love freely to give.
🕷 - He loves you so much.
🕷 - If your into propagating succulents he’ll point out all the random cuttings cascaded on the floor for you to grab. He likes seeing your eyes light up.
🕷 - you will leave that place with handfuls of cuttings.
🕷 - Free real estate babyyyy.
🕷 - Seeing all the kids totting along with their families makes his heart clench.
🕷 - One day you see a little boy ducking between some large pots, he seems to be hiding away from all the big shopping carts rolling by.
🕷 - Miguel sees him first, his heightened sense pick up on his nervousness almost immedietaly, but he hesitates.
🕷 - he’s not sure what to do, He doesn’t really know how to approach kids anymore.
🕷 - While he’s fighting an internal battle within himself, You swoop in.
🕷 - You ask if the kid is ok, and you take his hands and lift him out from between the stacked pots. He giggles and Miguel’s heart skips a beat.
🕷 - Miguel stands next to you awkwardly, watching in awe as you work your magic and make the kid laugh. You dry his tears and give him something to drink.
🕷 - He tells you he got separated from his mom in the confusion of all the crowd, and that he tried to stay put and wait for her to come back. You tell him how he’s such a smart boy, and that he was very brave.
🕷 - Miguel lifts him on to his shoulders silently so he can spot his parents. The man absolutely towers over all the plants. When he hears the kid giggling above him his the kid giggling above him his resting bitch face relaxes a bit.
🕷 - Miguel comes out of his shell a bit more as you both wait for his parents. The kid absolutely loves him. Miguel is starting at the sweet expression on your face as you chat with the kid and he is absolutely w i n d e d.
🕷 - has he ever told you that your really good with kids.,,
🕷 - haha.
🕷 - down bad fr.
🕷 - Then you spot Two women rushing towards you and they thank you both for finding and helping their son. And the moment is over.
🕷 - You assure them that it’s not a problem and you mention how sweet their child is.
🕷 - After you give a little wave you turn back to Miguel and he’s— wait.
🕷 - “Miggy, why are you looking at me like that?”
🕷 - “Like what, cariño?”
🕷 - Y e a r n i n g .
🕷 - Bro will literally drag you home, immedietely.
🕷 - Sorry not sorry.
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