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#Meet Positives
maxgicalgirl · 2 months
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Being a “Fun Fact !” kind of autistic is all fun and games until you get halfway through sharing an interesting tidbit and realize that it probably wasn’t appropriate to share in polite company and now you have to deal with the consequences :(
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inkskinned · 10 months
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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.
#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME#there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing#and the writing is what i need to be doing#writeblr#this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to#edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol#i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!!#my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means#i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her)#hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong#i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet.#i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse#i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!!#i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO#i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness#and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it#im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us#i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer#and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art.#i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work#even if it means being miserable#but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.
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slfcare · 2 months
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2024 is about letting people care about and for you. it’s about answering ‘how are you’ with honesty, asking for space when needed, accepting help and being open to advice, listening to concerns and having difficult conversations. it’s about trying your very best to let go of the feeling that you’re completely alone, and finding ways to prove to yourself that you aren’t.
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I started a new remote job last week, and I'm the only genderqueer person at the company (and the first person who uses neo pronouns that anyone on my team has ever met, apparently).
So far:
Manager carefully wrote down spelling and pronunciation of my pronouns and told everyone on the team to respect them.
Coworker apologized privately for misgendering me (I hadn't told her yet) and said she will practice.
Guy on another team valiantly tried to use my pronouns and ended up saying something like zirzs-zhizz (I DM'd him and thanked him for trying and linked him to a practice site).
Teammate told me he has written out my pronouns and how to use them in a sentence and literally taped it to his monitor so he can practice.
Teammate also referred to me as compañere after I linked to a comic about gender-neutral endings in Spanish (whole team except me + 1 other person speaks Spanish as first language and they held all meetings in Spanish before the two of us started).
I am so stoked that people are actually trying. 💜🤍💚
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littledoepeach · 7 months
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some personal art of mine 🥰 practicing self love! and ! art at the same time! by drawing myself cutely 😌💕
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pandadrake · 6 months
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Unforeseen side effect of the hostage shirt.
Thought about what would happen if the “get along” shirt situation continued and figured that Miguel would probably just go back to work with Miles stuck to him.
Part 1 This is Part 2 Part 3
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silicon-puppy-pudding · 8 months
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Honorary Fright Knight
I have this idea in my head that some time after Danny, as King Phantom, has established himself as part of/ an alie to the bats, Fright Knight decides he needs to meet these "Gotham Knights" himself to be sure they are worthy of working alongside the King. (And protecting him if need be)
So Phantom tells them, "Hey, my bodyguard just wants to see if yall are up to snuff and make sure yall are "sufficient in combat" or something." And the bats are like, ok, cool! We get to meet another ghost. Supposedly the Ghost Kings own personal bodyguard too?
So they're all in front of the portal and out comes The Fright Knight. They're all tense, worried of starting a potential interdimensional conflict or something. He's looming over all of them, sizing them up, when he spots Damien's sword.
FK: You, Child. Are you skilled with that weapon?
Dami: Tt, of course. I was raised to wield it.
Rest of the bats are worried that might be taken as a threat: 😬
Then Frighty steps up to Damian and brandishes the fucking Soul Shredder and just-
FK: Good. I declare thee worthy of the title of Honorary Knight of the High King Phantom.
And Damien's sword bursts into flames for a moment before going back to normal.
Everyone is reasonably shook. Phantom's kinda embarrased. But Damian? He puffs up his chest with pride at this. Out of all the bats, all his siblings, he was deemed worthy as a knight. Sure it was an honorary knight but still.
Don't know what to do with this, it just seemed funny to me 🤗👻
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teamhangaround · 11 months
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Workplace harassment
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fure-dcmk · 8 months
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osaka police department's golden boy
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bruciemilf · 1 year
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Bruce's love language is handing you his kids. Yes, even the 6'5 anti hero with anger issues. Lift with your back
Bruce: Isn't he precious
Martinez, struggling to hold this human tank: y..yeah ....
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chrssysworld · 22 days
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thetimelordbatgirl · 1 month
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Look we can acknowledge the fact that the people who wrote letters in support of Brian Peck were not filled in on the situation and were misled by Brian on what the charges were and such, but can we fucking acknowledge that one of those letter writers actually victim blamed the then 15 Year Old Drake Bell with acting like he tempted Brian who would never do such things unless well, tempted.
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bakedbakermom · 5 months
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The amount of self-fatphobia I encounter in my female friends regarding holiday treats is too damn high and it pisses me off. Twice this week I have told friends that it's okay to eat more in the winter (or when the fuck ever) because we are mammals and that's what we're supposed to do and both of them were like, "Teehee oh that's a great excuse!" And I'm like NO IT'S TRUE your body is responding to rhythms deeper than our modern concept of shame and it's absolutely fine to honor them and listen to your body! You don't need to generate some excuse in order to justify eating and being hungry and enjoying food.
I have had to do so much self-work regarding food and permission to eat and learning to be okay with enjoying food beyond its purpose as mere fuel. Like that was such a huge part of my recovery. My nutritionist once held my hand while I ate cheesecake and cried. And every time I encounter (milder versions of) those same food-phobic fat-shaming feelings in people I love I want to burn down the whole world because WHY ARE WE MADE TO FEEL LIKE THIS!?
Can we as a society just. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. about dieting and thinness and the morality of certain body shapes and just live in these physical bodies with their needs and desires and cravings!?!??
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minty364 · 3 months
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DPXDC Prompt #61 part 1
Danny didn’t like thinking about his old life. He was born to a family of assassins and as soon as he was out he never looked back. He had to fake his death and he changed his name, as far as anyone knew Damian Al Ghul had died on a mission to America. He was determined to keep this secret to the grave. Of course he knew who his dad was, Bruce Wayne was a prominent figure and he knew if we went there his secret would get out and he never wanted to be forced to be an assassin again. Once was enough. 
Danny knew he had a soft heart, his adoptive parents, the Fentons and Jazz had told him so. Jazz knew he didn’t have the greatest childhood or past but she never pried, she understood his business was his and wouldn’t let her own curiosity get the better of her. The only issue their family had was their parents obsession with ghosts. Damian never believed in ghosts, the entire thing sounded like a hoax. He probably never would have believed in them but then life happened. 
Danny believed, but it was kind of hard not too after everything that happened. When he had turned 14, his parents finished their biggest project yet. A portal to the ghost zone, of course it doesn’t work at first and his parents were very disappointed. Danny felt conflicted about the whole thing. On one hand he wanted his parents to succeed and he wanted them to be happy, on the other the portal was the reason he ate alone with his sister at night. He wanted a normal family life, something he was never allowed back at the league. 
He did something so stupid that night.
After his parents along with his sister were asleep, he crept down to the basement and stood in front of the empty hole in the wall. He looked around the outside of it first but nothing seemed to be out of place. Then he stepped into it and before he got too far into it something happened. He knew there were a lot of cords on the floor and thought he had avoided them all, but as he realized he was quickly being acquainted with the floor, he out of instinct held his hand out to catch himself on the wall. Right onto the ON button.
He didn’t remember much but pain after that.
A lot happened in the year after the portal was turned on but Danny thought he was taking things well. His sister found out about everything sooner than he liked but having someone to help him was something he didn’t realize he really needed until then. The ghost attacks were frequent and Danny was having trouble finding the time for school, friends, and fighting ghosts that the assistance helped a lot. 
Danny sat at as desk in Mr. Lancers class, who was going on about the play Hamlet. Danny was only half paying attention, he was preoccupied thinking about the latest conversation he had with Clockwork. Danny was recently crowned prince after his victory over Pariah Dark. He didn’t want the crown, ancients knew what Grandfather would do if he ever found out, but he had no other option but to accept. The conversation left him rather drained and it felt like every word his teacher spoke bled together. 
He eventually made his way to lunch and before he could make it to his destination a blue mist wafted out of his mouth. Sighing he ran out of the room to find a place to transform. Once he was Phantom he wasted no time finding the ghost. Of course it was Boxie. 
Before he had time to even fight though a portal opened up right besides Danny and he was kicked in by the Box Ghost. The world seemed to swirl around him until he landed harshly onto some pavement. The pavement was a roof and he appeared to be in a city. 
Not just any city he soon realized as he looked over to a bank that had the words ‘Gotham Bank’ brightly plastered on the front.
Shit… Danny wanted to avoid something like this, unfortunately the portal was already gone. 
After taking a moment to think about his predicament he decided the best course of action was to call Jazz.
He took a look around the rooftop he was on and when he didn’t see anyone he transformed back. 
Pulling out his cell from his pocket he pulled up his sister's contact on it and hit the call button. 
His sister took a bit longer than usual to answer but the hesitation in her voice caused him to pause, “H-hello?”
“Jazz, it’s Danny, we’ve got a code green,”  he knew setting up code colors with his sister would come in handy. Red meant he was gravely injured, yellow meant the ghost got away and he was in pursuit, blue meant he caught the ghost, and green meant he fell through a portal or something similar. 
There was silence on the other line for a moment and Danny was almost going to say something else but she spoke, “How do you know my name?”
Master Post:
Next:
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thyhauntedmansion · 3 months
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“Why am I the only one who remembers?”
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blanketforcas · 2 months
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